


Mr. Hurst Does a Kindness, Or, Courtship of Dreams

by 56Peonies



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - All Media Types, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Bingley Saves the Day, F/M, Lizzie Bennet/William Darcy Feels, Mr. Bennet Dies, Mr. Hurst Has a Heart, Mr. Hurst Saves the Day, POV Elizabeth Bennet, POV Fitzwilliam Darcy, POV Mr. Hurst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-02-15 09:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 119,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/56Peonies/pseuds/56Peonies
Summary: The Bennet family is still recovering from the sudden withdrawal of their Netherfield neighbors when disaster strikes. Not only is their father ill, they are struggling through the worst winter that England has seen in decades. Meanwhile in London, the Hursts discover that arranged marriages aren't so bad after all, and that a little kindness goes a long way.





	1. "Just thinking about it made him pour himself another drink"

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first story, so please be kind. I know I have a lot to learn. I hope you all enjoy it!

**Late November, 1813**

Pale November sunbeams slipped briefly through the leaden clouds, so low in the eastern sky they were nearly horizontal. Their light poured fleetingly over the Hertfordshire landscape and through the carriage window, vexing and inconveniencing Mr. Gilbert Hurst, one of the passengers therein. He had been feigning sleep, leaning his head against the side wall of the carriage with his eyes screwed tightly shut. If only he’d had a brandy or two, or maybe three, before leaving, he could have had the escape of actual slumber. But it had been too early in the day, even for him.

Too early as well to be stuck in a carriage with his wife Louisa and her sister, Miss Caroline Bingley. Caroline was in a state of near euphoria, having convinced their friend Mr. Darcy that their party urgently needed to leave Netherfield, the estate her brother was leasing in Hertfordshire, and return to London.

Gilbert cursed himself for having ridden in the carriage, instead of following Darcy’s example and riding horseback. Now he was going to have to listen to Caroline crow all the way to town. She was in rare form. There weren’t enough words, or volume, to disparage the vulgarity and shabbiness of the country neighborhood, in particular the Bennet family, and more in particular, the two eldest Miss Bennets. Louisa sat next to her husband, unable to escape her sister’s soliloquy, replying in monosyllables, her fingers unconsciously twisting the charms on her bracelet.

Hurst felt the slightest twinge but absolved himself, leaving her to contend with Caroline alone. _She’s used to it, old man_. Finally, Louisa too pretended weariness, which quickly turned into fitful sleep.

Darcy rode alongside the carriage, his face impassive. He could hear the muffled sounds of Caroline’s vocal exertions through the walls of the carriage. He was also glad, even relieved, to be leaving the small society of Meryton behind. So relieved in fact, he was fighting the urge to gallop all the way to town.

To be sure, the Netherfield estate was satisfactory, and upon improvement could be excellent. His friend’s infatuation with a young lady from a neighboring estate had changed the situation.

Darcy had watched the beautiful and serene Jane Bennet over the course of their stay, and although her eyes lingered on Bingley’s face, and her smile was warm, he had convinced himself that she didn’t reciprocate the depth of Bingley’s regard. He felt compassion for Bingley for what he was soon to hear, but believed that his friend’s natural cheerfulness would quickly reassert itself. No doubt he was doing his friend a great service, discouraging him from pursuing a woman whose family was inferior and mercenary.  It was his duty, and he knew that someday Bingley would thank him.

Uninvited, a lovely, laughing face with sparkling eyes rose before his mind’s eye. He squeezed his eyes shut and dismissed the vision. If she had had a larger fortune, or better connections, he might have been in some danger, but that was not the case. _A minor distraction. I will acquire a suitable wife in town this season, and that will be the end of it._

_***_

Hours later, the carriage rolled into London and its exhausted occupants recovered in the faded comfort of the Hursts’ townhouse. Gilbert sought out the soothing comfort of a bottle of wine in his study, while Louisa retired to her room.

Charles Bingley, Louisa and Caroline’s brother, had left Hertfordshire for London on business the day before and was staying at his club, so Darcy rode there to inform him of their decision to quit Netherfield. Hurst had the distinct impression that he had been impatient to leave their company.

Within the hour, Bingley and Darcy returned to the townhouse. Caroline was waiting to receive them. She had asked Louisa and Gilbert to be a part of the family confab, but they had both refused, pleading exhaustion. Louisa really did look tired and unhappy, but Hurst had simply wanted no part of what was to come. Caroline and Darcy were going to tell Charles that the lovely young woman he had lost his heart to did not return his regard.

After a short time, he perceived raised voices, particularly Caroline’s, coming from the drawing room. Then the doors burst open, and Charles walked quickly, almost running, out of the room and down the stairs to the front door. His friend was right behind him. The two gentlemen left immediately for Darcy House; Bingley’s overheated, red countenance showing obvious distress, Darcy’s face a pale, rigid mask.

Ensconced in a sagging armchair with his feet comfortably propped on a threadbare ottoman, Hurst sipped his wine, reflecting on the previous weeks. He was glad to be back in town, but he had not thought Hertfordshire so bad. Surprising, since he did not usually have any inclination toward country life. His family had an estate in Northhamptonshire, but Hurst had left the management of that to his younger brother, and handled the family’s business interests in London.

Hurst had not even considered the residents of Meryton as beneath him as Caroline did, even though his own family ranked quite above the Bingleys. Certainly, he had seen examples of behavior that could be considered vulgar and gauche, but he could see that in town, too, among the ranks of the nobility. If Mrs. Bennet was avaricious, loud, and crass, so were dozens of fashionable mothers of the ton. He had discovered that Mr. Bennet had a sly sense of humor, and had enjoyed a pleasantly satirical conversation with him at the ball until the older gentleman had been called away to prevent Miss Mary Bennet from monopolizing the pianoforte. He had enjoyed meeting Miss Jane Bennet, and felt that Louisa had relaxed a bit around her. Louisa had smiled more often in Miss Bennet’s gentle company, and her habit of nervous fidgeting had stilled.

Hurst knew that Bingley had fallen utterly in love with Miss Bennet. He had seen Bingley in love several times before, but this time it was different. There was something in the air when they were together, as they had been to an indecent extent during the ball two days’ prior. Everyone there, sophisticated or gauche, had noticed.

 _Could Darcy have truly not seen any evidence of Miss Bennet’s regard for Bingley?_ Yes, Miss Bennet seemed composed and tranquil, but Hurst had observed a bond growing between them.

Perhaps Darcy has never been in love himself, or perhaps his experiences with the ton had made him cynical. Hurst snorted. The marriage mart of the ton would make Cupid himself cynical. And Caroline, of course, never noticed anyone, unless she thought they might be advantageous to know.

Hurst, however, had discovered himself to be envious of their budding love. As he had danced with his wife that evening, he had been unable to put it out of his mind.

It was, in fact, the nascent attachment between the two young people that had precipitated their abrupt departure. Caroline fumed at the possibility of her brother forming a connection with the Bennets, any of them. Their family estate was small, and it was entailed. Their mother’s side of the family was in trade. She had, of course, long had her sights on Mr. Darcy’s sister, Georgiana, as the most advantageous match for Charles. It was a match that would raise the Bingleys far beyond the taint of trade, which was where their own fortune had originated only two generations before.

Caroline had barely tolerated Netherfield and its environs. She wasn’t cut out for the countryside. She was never happy rusticating except when they traveled to the Darcy estate of Pemberley. Having been schooled with the highest ranking families, she had visited any number of country seats. A few years before, after Charles and Darcy had formed their friendship, an invitation to visit Pemberley had been extended to the Bingleys. Caroline had already chosen Darcy as her future husband. The prestige of such a match would surely, finally, bring her acceptance among the haute ton. Once she saw Pemberley, she could think of nothing else.

***

Darcy and Bingley drew up in front of the Darcy townhouse on Brook Street. Bingley had not spoken since they left the Hursts’; flushed and agitated, his unseeing eyes stared straight ahead, his lips set in a grim line. Both men handed their horses to a pair of grooms and Bingley followed his friend into the house. He had taken up Darcy’s offer of hospitality when he had understood the reason for quitting Netherfield. Darcy guiltily had no wish to exacerbate his profound disappointment by forcing him to be in proximity to his sister, so he had pressed his friend to stay with him.

Darcy broke the long silence, “Your things have been sent up to your usual chamber, Bingley.” 

“Thank you,” Bingley said in a low voice, not meeting his eyes, “and thank you for your hospitality. I’m going to my rooms now,” and without another word climbed the stairs.

Uncharacteristically ill at ease, Darcy needed time to collect himself after the distasteful scene he had just been party to. He stood, woolgathering, at the bottom of the staircase for some moments and then, shaking himself, retreated to his study for a drink.

 Within the hour, the butler knocked on the door and announced his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. The Colonel walked into the room with his usual good-humored air but checked his step when he caught sight of the glower on his cousin’s face. “Darcy!” said the Colonel, “Back from Hertfordshire already? Mother saw you riding in Grosvenor Square today and told me that you were back in town. I had not expected your return so soon.”

The frown on Darcy’s face deepened. “It became necessary to remove from Hertfordshire earlier than planned,” he said, “Bingley was on the verge of making an imprudent alliance. The young lady’s family estate was small, and she had objectionable connections, including relatives in trade.”

The Colonel rolled his eyes. He knew well his proud cousin’s notions on this subject. As a military man, his acquaintance was wide, and his views on social rank more relaxed than Darcy’s. “Be that as it may, Darcy, that still makes the young lady a gentleman’s daughter, and Bingley’s own fortune was built through trade. I fail to understand how she is so ineligible. I also fail to understand why Bingley shouldn’t make these decisions for himself.”

“Richard, Bingley needs to marry to enhance his family’s prestige. His heart is easily engaged, so he needs guidance and advice from someone who is used to navigating the ton,” replied Darcy, his expression and tone defensive.

Smirking, the Colonel retorted, “So you, dear cousin, _you_ , who despises the ton and the season and everything about it, are going to guide your friend through society? You don’t even like coming to town!”

“That is true. However, I am renewing my efforts to find an appropriate mate,” said Darcy. “I have been remiss in my responsibilities. Pemberley needs a mistress, and we both know Georgiana needs more female companionship.”

Richard studied him. Behind his superior expression, Darcy looked unhappy, and he wasn’t quite meeting his eye. _What’s brought all this on?_

*****  
**

A few days after settling back into their home, Hurst received a letter from his solicitor, requesting a meeting to discuss an investment opportunity. He readily agreed and returned the message, not wishing to spend any more time listening to his sister-in-law pontificate about society. His conscience niggled at leaving Louisa alone with Caroline, but any efforts on his part to separate the sisters in the past had come to naught, and he was resigned.

Their marriage had been a business proposition. The Hursts were an ancient family, fallen on hard times. Gilbert and his younger brother Arthur had been working to rebuild the family fortunes, which had suffered from the profligate behavior and disastrous investments of their father. Louisa had brought her 20,000 pound dowry to the marriage, and Gilbert had brought his old and distinguished family name. It had been an important step toward the Bingley family objective of recasting themselves as gentlefolk. The marriage had been one of the last arrangements made by old Mr. Bingley before he died.

Gilbert and Arthur were all that was left of their family. Gilbert remembered their mother, the quiet force of stability for his father, who had been a something of a loose screw before his marriage. Arthur was the younger by four years and had no memories of her. When Arthur was three and Gilbert was seven, their mother had died of a fever following the stillbirth of their infant sister.

Their father had never recovered, returning to his youthful pattern of dissolute behavior, neglecting his sons, falling prey to so-called friends who took advantage of him, and finally dying of drink. They had been raised by their maternal grandfather, a stern and distant man, but in his own way good to the orphaned boys.

It was his grandfather who had taught Gilbert and his brother how to do business and run the estate. The old gentleman had stressed the importance of a top-notch education, and even though there was little money left, there was enough for university for both boys. He taught his grandsons family loyalty, and a sense of responsibility for their ancestral lands. From the time Gilbert had been old enough to understand the harm his father had done, his life was dedicated to rebuilding the family fortunes. He had studied hard, not appreciating his classes for challenging his intellect, but for helping him to make the connections he needed to achieve his goal. He had watched other young men of rank squander their years at Cambridge, but he could not afford to do that, in more ways than one.

***

In his youth, Gilbert Hurst had thought himself in love with a flaxen-haired girl from an adjoining estate. The Hursts and the Winstones had been acquainted for many years. He and Marianne had spent sunlit days running and playing through the woods and meadows between the two manor houses, laughing and calling to each other. Their mothers would sit picnicking in the grass as they rambled around the gardens, little Arthur trying to keep up. After his mother died, kind Mrs. Winstone had tried to assuage their grief, inviting to the boys to their home again and again, but over time the families grew apart. His father went into his decline, frittering away the family’s assets, though the boys were unaware of any changes other than fewer servants and the increasing dilapidation of the manor house and outbuildings.

_Nine-year-old Gilbert and Marianne sat together on the floor in his family library, playing draughts. Gilbert could see his father and hers together in his father’s study, Winstone pouring his father yet  another drink. Sensing someone’s eyes upon him, Mr. Winstone’s face reflexively turned to meet his, the calculating gleam in his eye quickly replaced by a kindly expression. Gilbert wondered if he had imagined it. He saw Winstone giving his father some papers to sign, and shortly afterwards, he called for Marianne and they departed._

Years later, Gilbert discovered that Winstone had acquired a few pieces of prime bottomland and woodland from his father. His mind went back to that scene, adding to his determination to restore his family’s good name and fortune.

Over time, his feelings toward his playfellow turned to young love, and he thought she loved him in return. He wrote to her from university. Over time, her replies were less frequent, changing in tone from familiar enthusiasm to politeness. Still, one holiday when he was home from Cambridge, Gilbert had asked her father’s permission to court Marianne. Winstone refused on the grounds of his lack of fortune, and his family’s declining reputation.

_Gilbert, stunned into silence, turned on his heel to leave. As he crossed the large open hall to the front door, he heard the rustle of skirts overhead and looked up. His eyes met Marianne’s, her expression cool and distant. Without a word, she turned away into the sitting room and closed the door behind her._

She was betrothed within the year to the son of a family with a large estate in Lancashire, and interests in coal. Marianne forgot about him, and Gilbert found that drink sometimes dulled his loneliness.

He went back to university and redoubled his efforts, both in the classroom and in society. He attended dances and parties, and even spent one season in the family’s now-shabby townhouse, hoping he might find a young lady to share his future hopes and dreams with, but the status of his fortune had preceded him to London. The young ladies he met there were civil but not welcoming. His thin, handsome face took on a hard, cynical look, his expression sour. He almost always had a drink in his hand, never drinking to the point of intoxication, although he had dozed off on more than one elegant settee. He began to find the habit of small talk annoying and hypocritical, and so spoke very little. By his twenty-fifth year he had gained the reputation of being cross as crabs. Gilbert contemplated not marrying at all, but for the sake of the estate, he had to marry for money. Following a chain of rumors and gossip, he met the elder Mr. Bingley, and a deal was struck.

After their marriage, Gilbert over time began to admire Louisa. She had lovely fair skin, soft, wavy black hair, and large expressive gray eyes. She rarely smiled, but when she did, it was beautiful. She was a graceful dancer. She played the pianoforte beautifully and expressively.

Even though they had been married for almost three years, she didn’t open up to him; didn’t reveal much of herself around him. She was an enigma. However, her quiet ways intrigued him. They spent nights together when Hurst requested it, but Louisa gave him no indication of real affection. She was respectful, did her duty as a wife, but otherwise did not seek him out. 

What he had not known at the time of his marriage was that his wife came with her sister. It seemed that they were inseparable. Moreover, Gilbert had discovered that when Louisa was around Caroline, she disappeared. Caroline dominated the conversation and Louisa concurred with her out of long habit, often while staring out the window. Just thinking about it made him pour himself another drink.

Gilbert would have never suspected that he intrigued Louisa as much as she intrigued him. She did not dislike him. Indeed, she was greatly relieved to not to have been married to her father’s other choice for her, a portly pocked-faced baronet in his forties. Gilbert was never rude to her, but he often ignored her. He was a tall, slender man who hid behind a habitual scowl, and often as well behind a glass of some fiery liquid.

However, on their nights together, he was always gentle and oddly formal. Gilbert usually retired to his own room after he had finished, sometimes with a quiet thank you, but a few times he had fallen asleep in her bed beside her. She had lain next to him, watching him breathe. When he was relaxed, his face was so handsome. Once he had smiled in his sleep, and it had touched something inside her. She’d touched his face gently, but he had stirred, and she had immediately feigned sleep.

***

Caroline Bingley was an uneven correspondent. She took no enjoyment from writing or receiving letters as other young ladies did; had no bosom friends with whom to exchange long, cozy missives. To Caroline, letters were merely a means to an end, and there was only one end for her. She used any correspondence she might need to further herself in society, to toady, to entreat, to stealthily and silkily boast of her own accomplishments and acquaintance. Upon leaving Netherfield, she had suggested a correspondence with Miss Jane Bennet merely as a convention. She had no real intention of furthering her acquaintance with anyone from Longbourn.

A week into December, a letter from Miss Bennet appeared on the pile of correspondence in the study. Caroline snatched it up, fearing Charles or Louisa might see it. She held the letter in one hand and tapped it against the other while considering what to do. Her gaze swept over to the fire. She rolled her eyes when she realized that even if she disposed of it Miss Bennet would most likely write another. Caroline went to her writing desk and skimmed Jane’s letter. _How dull!_ _As if any of us would be interested in their pathetic little doings._

Smirking, Caroline sat down to write. She described loftily to Miss Bennet how very, very busy they all were, and how they hardly had a moment to draw breath for all their social obligations.  She mentioned more than once that unfortunately she herself really had almost no time for correspondence. She also mentioned that Miss Darcy, a special favorite of theirs, would be in town soon ( _Well, she might,_ reasoned Caroline), and that she and Charles would be much in company with each other. Caroline’s object was to shame Miss Bennet into epistolary silence. She succeeded. There were no more letters from Longbourn.

 ***

Jane Bennet had in desperation fled the noisy household and quietly stolen away to the small bedchamber she shared with Elizabeth. It had all gotten to be too much for her. Her calm, smiling mask was beginning to slip, and she needed some quiet and solitude. She sat in the little chair next to the window and took out the letter she had been carrying around in her pocket for three days. Even though she had read and reread it to the point of knowing the words by heart, she read it again. It was all very plainly laid out. According to Miss Bingley, her brother was not ever returning to Netherfield. They were staying in London for the season, mingling with very important and high ranking personages. Miss Darcy would be arriving in London soon, and Mr. Bingley wished to spend as much time in her company as possible. They were all very happy and busy in town, and there was nothing, and nobody, who could tempt them to return to Hertfordshire.

 _You are such a fool, Jane._ It had all seemed so real. She had believed, with her whole being, that Charles Bingley had cared for her. And she had given her foolish heart away to a man who was good-natured and amiable and all that was pleasing, but who did not return her feelings.

She had shown the letter to her sister, but Lizzy had flown into such a temper that Jane did not bring it up again. Jane concluded that Miss Bingley was simply being honest with her, but in the contents of the letter Lizzy had seen a conspiracy on the part of Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy to take Mr. Bingley away because the Bennets were not of sufficient respectability for them.

Jane could not believe that anyone would do such a hurtful thing. Miss Bingley must surely be concerned only for her brother’s happiness. And Mr. Darcy, a universally respected man, was a devoted friend to Mr. Bingley. Surely he would not do something so cruel as Lizzy believed?

No, she had no one to blame but herself for her sadness and desolation. She had mistaken Mr. Bingley’s kindness for tender feelings. She would strive to overcome it, and not speak a word about it again. But first, in the privacy of her room, she would let herself cry, just once. She placed the letter onto the fire and watched as it was consumed by flames. Then she let the tears take over, and wept deeply and noiselessly into her pillow, her body wracked with silent sobs.

***

On the appointed day Hurst arrived at Mr. Henderson’s offices and sat down warily with his business agent, who beamed at him. “Mr. Hurst, I am pleased that you could meet so quickly. I have an investment opportunity for you that I believe you will approve. Now that the Somerleigh estate is beginning to show a profit again, diversifying your investments will make you and your family less vulnerable to crop failures and variations in grain prices.”

“I have met a businessman,” he continued, “a Mr. Edward Gardiner, who has extensive holdings in imports, shipping, and warehouses, and he is looking for investors in all aspects of his business. He has enjoyed great prosperity and now needs investors to help his business expand.”

Hurst pricked up his ears. “What do you know of this gentleman?” he asked. “Do you have reliable information about his background and finances? How long has he been in business?”

“I have been making inquiries,” replied Mr. Henderson, “I have found nothing amiss, or I would not have brought it to your attention. His finances are sound, according to documents supplied by his accounting firm. He has been in business these eighteen years, beginning with one warehouse and gradually expanding. He is a shrewd and careful businessman. His father was a respectable country solicitor, and he studied the law and attended university before he went into business.”

“Why is he looking for investors, then?” asked Hurst. 

“His shipping line is in need of expansion to meet demand. He could afford to finance the expansion himself, but does not wish to leave his warehouses underfunded,” said Mr. Henderson.

“Well, by all means let us become acquainted with this paragon,” said Mr. Hurst, “Perhaps I will be able to steal some thunder from my brother Bingley, or even his friend Darcy.”

“Yes, sir!” laughed Henderson, “I’ll set up a meeting for next week, if you are so inclined.” Hurst gave his assent for the meeting, agreeing to await communication about the time and place.

 ***

The two eldest Bennet sisters walked to Meryton with some commissions from their mother, welcoming the opportunity to get out of the house. The early December day was unusually fine. Elizabeth loved the pale golden light and crisp, clear air. She had not taken time to appreciate the late autumn beauty around her. She had been preoccupied with the inmates of Netherfield for the past several weeks; her sister’s growing attachment to Mr. Bingley, her mother’s public behavior, Mr. Darcy’s dark forbidding stares. She felt a tingly shiver run up her spine and shook it off. The sisters went in and out of the shops, stopping to chat with acquaintances along the way.

Elizabeth had half expected to encounter Mr. Wickham in the village. She had hoped some conversation with him would lighten her mood, but he was not to be seen.

As the girls turned to make their way back to Longbourn, they saw their Uncle Philips standing outside his offices, coatless in the lukewarm sunshine. He greeted them affectionately, teasing Elizabeth, “Looking for a handsome officer, Lizzy?” Elizabeth blushed faintly but laughed at her uncle’s gentle teasing. Jane smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.

Their uncle, a great friendly bear of a man, regarded Jane with compassion and, putting one arm around each of them, gently hugged them both before they started for home. Elizabeth had noticed pitying looks covertly cast their way from others in the town. While Netherfield had been occupied, the local residents had been expecting any day to hear an announcement pertaining to Jane and Mr. Bingley. When the Bingley party suddenly withdrew from the neighborhood, the general feeling was that Jane, who was quite a favorite in Meryton, had been ill-used.  

Elizabeth concurred. She had been keeping a close eye on her eldest sister since Jane had received Miss Bingley’s note apprising her of their departure from Netherfield.  Elizabeth distrusted the rather too effusive protestations of friendship in her letter. On the surface, Jane seemed to be her usual composed self. Jane’s appearance of tranquility hid her hurt and confusion from everyone but her sister. Elizabeth remembered Charlotte’s warning that Jane’s natural reserve might fool Mr. Bingley into believing that she didn’t care deeply for him. She firmly believed that Mr. Bingley had not been allowed to make that decision for himself.

As Jane continued to make excuses for Mr. Bingley’s unceremonious disappearance from her life, Elizabeth was fuming. Miss Bingley’s subsequent letter had made it clear that her objective was to keep Bingley away from Jane and push him into the path of Miss Darcy. She didn’t know whether it had been Miss Bingley or Mr. Darcy who had engineered the destruction of her sister’s happiness, but suspected that together they had conspired to keep Bingley from making a misalliance.  

Of course, Miss Bingley was also pursuing her own ambitions. If she could get her brother married to Miss Darcy, it would increase her own chances of trapping Mr. Darcy. If she hadn’t been so vexed, Elizabeth might have found some amusement in Miss Bingley’s hopeless designs. Apparently, that lady was unaware her hopes were doomed to failure, and that Mr. Darcy was expected by his family to marry his cousin.  Mr. Collins had told them all about it. Elizabeth smirked. From Mr. Collins’ grandiloquent description of Lady Catherine, Mr. Darcy deserved to be her son-in-law.

 A more immediate problem confronting Jane was the constant rubbing of salt into her wounds by her mother.  Mrs. Bennet’s normally tactless commentary was made worse by the disappointment of her hopes of having two daughters engaged: Jane to Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth to Mr. Collins. She simply could not leave the subject alone.  While she tactlessly pestered Jane with speculation about Mr.  Bingley’s departure, she angrily castigated Elizabeth for having refused Mr. Collins.

The sun was low in the sky as the sisters neared Longbourn, and a chilly breeze had risen. Jane and Elizabeth entered the house through the kitchen door. As they came through the hall, they overheard their parents’ voices in conversation, discussing the upcoming reprise of their cousin’s visit.

“Only think, Mr. Bennet, that we are again forced to offer hospitality to Mr. Collins! He and Charlotte Lucas will be continually talking of when they will turn us all out! I cannot bear to think that they should have our home! How vexing to think that Lizzy might have been Mr. Collins’ wife! And Jane might have been Mr. Bingley’s! They say in Meryton that Mr. Bingley is not coming back.”

“I would not have had Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, and as for Jane, Mrs. Bennet, next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then. It gives her something to think of, and lends her a sort of distinction among her companions,” replied Mr. Bennet with his usual dry tone.

Jane froze, her face stricken, and then recovering herself, said, “I am going upstairs to rest, Lizzy. I am afraid our walk quite tired me out.”

Elizabeth was speechless. Did not her parents understand how deeply they hurt Jane, each in their own way? She stepped back outside to escape the sound of their voices. Looking to the west in the waning light, she watched a line of ragged dark clouds in the far distance, and felt the chill wind gain strength. A line from a sonnet appeared in her mind, _"How like a winter hath my absence been from thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year, What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen, What old December's bareness everywhere". She shivered and went into the house._

 ***

The note came from Henderson after two days. Would it be possible to meet in the morning Tuesday next at Henderson’s offices? Hurst sent a note in agreement, and then sat down to pen a letter to his brother to notify him of the upcoming meeting and describe what he knew of the possible investment. He would then further correspond with his brother when he had more specific information.

Within a few days he had a letter from Arthur expressing interest, and describing in detail the ongoing improvements to the house and grounds of their estate. As he read it, he felt a stab of jealousy. Arthur was actively working toward the physical improvement of their old family seat, while he was in London handling business affairs, and unfortunately, socializing. Gilbert was beginning to feel oppressed by the hauteur and indolence of the ton. When he and Arthur had devised their plan to raise their family fortunes, he had been happy to leave the crumbling farm. Lately, with his marriage, and gaining in maturity, happy childhood memories of rambling around the old estate had begun to creep into his head. _Silly,_ he thought, shaking his head. The envy, however slight, that he felt for Arthur left him unsettled.

His thoughts strayed to Louisa. A marriage of convenience for both sides. His family gained money to invest in the estate and her family gained in social rank. Suddenly, surprisingly, he wished it were more. He had come to admire her quiet grace and elegant manners. And she had a good mind, that girl. He poured himself another glass of wine. Could he somehow show Louisa his growing regard? He took a sip reflectively. In order to find out, something had to be done about Caroline.

***

The days slipped by, and Jane, all protestations to the contrary, did not recover her spirits. Charlotte was immersed in wedding preparations so Elizabeth could not confide in her, and she simply could not speak of her concern to her parents. Her mother would have one of her spasms and her father would make sport of it.

Desperate to talk to someone, Elizabeth thought of Aunt Gardiner, her closest confidante save Charlotte and Jane. She sat down at the little writing desk in her room, took out paper and ink, and carefully considered what to say. As she went over the events in her mind, she realized that the Bingleys had only quit Netherfield a little less than three weeks previous. In spite of Miss Bingley’s letter inferring that they would never come back, Elizabeth wondered if that was true. A fortnight wasn’t a very long time.

What if Mr. Bingley did return, and wished to court Jane? If this happened, she didn’t want their admired aunt to think badly of him.  After some further thought, she decided not to name the members of the Netherfield party but to refer to them by initials. She set to work on her letter, describing the events of the Netherfield party’s visit; their words, their behavior, and their personalities.

 After a few days, her aunt’s reply arrived. Mrs. Gardiner sympathized with her nieces. She pointed out that though Elizabeth’s account was certainly not impartial, from what she had been told, Mr. Bingley’s sister had probably talked him out of returning to Netherfield any time soon.

She disagreed with Elizabeth over Mr. Darcy’s role in the matter, however. Elizabeth bristled as she read her aunt’s verdict that Mr. Darcy may have been attracted to her, in which case he certainly would not have wanted to leave Netherfield. 

 _Where_ had her aunt gotten that idea? Charlotte had reached the same conclusion, and Elizabeth had scoffed.  She and Mr. Darcy had disliked each other on sight. Mrs. Gardiner then went on to suggest that Jane spend a few weeks with them in London after the New Year holiday. Elizabeth rejoiced. The invitation was just what she had been hoping for.

 ***

On the following Tuesday Hurst, grouchy and irritable, was up before the sun, trying to ignore his headache and riding to his morning business meeting. Upon arrival, he dismounted and tied his horse in front of Henderson’s office. Climbing the stairs, the smell of coffee assailed him and he began to feel curiously optimistic. The feeling was reinforced when he stepped into Henderson’s meeting room and met Mr. Edward Gardiner.

The elegantly dressed man with the intelligent expression looked him in the eye and shook his hand heartily as Henderson performed the introductions. Gardiner had brought his own man of business, a Mr. Haggerston, with him. They sat together enjoying coffee and pastries as Gardiner and Haggerston described his business holdings and his future plans, producing accounts documents, ship registers, and bills of lading; answering the questions the other two men plied him with. Gilbert couldn’t have felt more comfortable if he had been in his own breakfast room. The discussion flowed until Gardiner looked at his watch. “Oh drat, I shall have to leave you gentlemen. One of our ships is docking today and I wish to be there to meet with the captain.”

A glance and a nod passed between Hurst and his solicitor. “I believe we have a deal, sir. I will draw up some papers,” said Mr. Henderson, “When can we meet again?”

“I must travel for a few days. How about next Wednesday sennight?” said Mr. Gardiner.

“Can you have the documents drawn up by then, Henderson?” asked Hurst. “Yes, sir, I can and will.”

“Then I will take your leave until then, gentlemen. It has been my great pleasure,” said Mr. Gardiner.

“Mr. Gardiner, I assure you, the pleasure has been mine,” said Hurst.

 ***

Hurst hurried to fetch his horse, eager to tell … who? Would Louisa want to listen to this? Probably not, and she was probably out making those interminable calls with Caroline. He wished he could share his good news with someone besides Arthur. A letter was not as rewarding as carrying on a face-to-face conversation. He thought of Bingley, and determined to have a nice chat with his brother. Accordingly, he turned his horse in the direction of Darcy House.

Upon arrival, Hurst knocked at the door, and was received by the butler. He was informed that Darcy was out, but that Bingley was in the saloon. When he was announced, Bingley came to meet him in an abstracted manner. They sat down and made small talk for a few minutes, and then Hurst described his morning meeting to his brother. Normally Bingley would have attended to his narrative very well, but his attention was wandering, his eyes clouding over and his chin slumping into his hand. Gilbert sighed with irritation. His eyes moved involuntarily to the cut glass decanter of wine on the table, but he decided against it. Instead, Gilbert considered his brother-in-law and said, “Have you heard a word I have said, Charles?”

Bingley started, then looked embarrassed. “I am sorry, Gilbert. I own I am somewhat preoccupied,” he replied with an unconvincing smile. Hurst looked at him closely. Bingley’s countenance was pale and there were shadows under his eyes. “What is the matter, brother?” asked Hurst quietly.

“Well, Gilbert,” said Bingley sadly, “It is not an easy thing to discover what a stupid man I have been.”

“I would never call you stupid, Charles,” said Gilbert. “In fact I would say you are one of the most intelligent men I know. Not to mention your great heart and kind manner.”

“I’m afraid it is my heart that is the problem now,” said Charles.

“Is this about Miss Bennet?” asked Gilbert, finally catching on.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” sighed Charles, “She is everything I could ever want in a woman, but… I learned that I was making a fool of myself. I have been saved from further embarrassment by Caroline and by Darcy. They have convinced me that Ja… er, Miss Bennet, did not return my feelings but considered me merely a friendly acquaintance. It is...” His face worked. “Quite disappointing.”

“I am truly sorry, Charles…,” began Hurst.

“Oh,” hastened Bingley, pinning a lopsided smile on his face, “Don’t worry! No doubt I will have forgotten all about her within a week. Caroline did me the favor of reminding me how many times I have fallen in and out of love before.”

Hurst could not think of a thing to say, vexed at the insensitivity with which Charles had been treated. Caroline, his own sister, and Darcy, who professed to be his friend, had not respected him enough to allow him to form his own opinions about something so important, and then had the appalling callousness to tell him he would soon forget about it.

“Charles,” said Gilbert urgently, “please don’t punish yourself. I cannot say that I agree with Caroline or Darcy about what Miss Bennet’s feelings may be. Perhaps take a while to give it some thought, and try to distract yourself. If, after some time you find that you are still so affected by her, you should follow your instincts.”

“That is by far the kindest thing anyone has said to me on this subject,” said Bingley ruefully, “I will certainly keep it in mind, Gilbert.”

“Pray, do not repeat my advice to either of your sisters or to Darcy, Charles,” said Hurst, raising an eyebrow meaningfully, “Keep it to yourself, man! It would not do for me to damage my misanthropic, wine-soaked, jaundiced reputation!”

Bingley guffawed his first genuine laugh in weeks. Mr. Darcy, entering the room at just that moment, patted himself on the back for his astute judgment of Bingley’s character. He was forgetting the girl already. This lifted Darcy’s mood a bit, for he, too, was feeling melancholy and out of spirits. Darcy, however, had no doubt that he himself, once he had found an acceptable female, would also quickly recover – and forget.

Mr. Hurst stayed just long enough to describe again his meeting with Mr. Gardiner. Both Bingley and Darcy listened attentively, asked many questions, and requested that Hurst keep them informed, so that they might also consider investing with Gardiner.

On his way home, Hurst thought of Charles. He genuinely liked his brother-in-law. He felt that Charles deserved a chance to court a young lady without the scrutiny and opining of his sister or his haughty friend. Then a thought crossed his mind that startled him.

He himself, Gilbert Hurst, had never truly courted a young lady. He had instead agreed to a convenient marriage for his family honor and Louisa’s dowry. When he had met her, he had been prepared for a plain or ill-bred girl, but had been pleasantly surprised. She was lovely, intelligent, and pleasant to be around. Louisa, more than anything, deserved a real courtship. The idea appealed to him, and he thought about how to court his wife all the way home.


	2. "He had never been so mortified in his life"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to post the next two chapters, since I will be traveling for a while with no computer access.
> 
> I've been making some edits on the fly, so please let me know if you see something that seems like it doesn't fit.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for your encouragement, I really appreciate it!

Hurst and Mr. Henderson attended another meeting with Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Haggerston. This time they met at Gardiner’s offices located near his warehouses. On his way to the meeting, he surveyed the area. It was obviously a part of town given over to commerce, but he was pleasantly surprised at how attractive and tidy the streets were. There were even some respectable residences nearby, rather recent construction, but many of the houses were quite handsome.

The meeting went well. Hurst and his brother, along with Mr. Henderson, had decided on how much to invest. While it was perhaps not as much as some of his acquaintance could put into a business venture, Hurst was happy with the amount. Mr. Gardiner was very pleased to have them as partners, and again they all spent a few rewarding hours learning about the plans for expansion.

As the afternoon drew to a close, Gardiner wished them all very happy holidays. “In ten days my family and I will be off to my brother’s estate to greet the holiday season,” he laughed, “and my young nieces can give my wife some rest by attending to our noisy children!”

“Your children, Gardiner, will require the vigilance of all five of your nieces!” laughed Mr. Haggerston. Hurst and Henderson also chuckled at this, and wished him merry.

***

December continued and the pace of London social life quickened. Even though it was soon to be Christmastide, some families came in from their country estates to celebrate in London before Parliament convened in January. Even though the season would not truly begin for weeks, there were still plays, concerts, and parties to attend.

Caroline came into some intelligence that many of society’s most fashionable would be attending a performance of “The Rivals”. It would be a splendid opportunity to attract notice, before the theaters became more crowded. She insisted that her brother procure tickets, but Darcy took pity on his friend and offered his box. The Hursts, Bingleys, and Mr. Darcy would all drive to the theater and attend together.

The evening at last arrived. Caroline wore a richly decorated gown with a deep décolletage and layers of flounces. Her hair was intricately styled and embellished with feathers. This was her night to shine, for Mr. Darcy, and for the other personages who would be assembled there. Maybe, she thought, she could secure Darcy’s addresses for herself before the season had even begun.

Louisa looked lovely, albeit in a more subtle way. Hurst smiled his admiration and looked into her eyes. He was glad he had avoided the liquor cabinet all afternoon, so he could gaze at her, not to mention stay awake through the play. “You look lovely, my dear,” he said, with a level of feeling in his voice that neither of them had expected.

Louisa blushed and wondered. Gilbert seemed so sincere at times. She didn’t know whether to accept his compliment as genuine, or assume that he was merely creating a prelude to a conjugal visit. She impulsively decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He took her hand and wound it through his arm, giving it a little squeeze. Louisa’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but her instincts were telling her to trust him, so she did. Caroline had others to pay attention to her tonight, and Louisa was very weary of her sister’s company. She smiled slightly to herself, content to stay next to her husband.

Darcy’s carriage arrived and they all left for the theater. Once the curtain had risen, Hurst found himself thoroughly enjoying the play, and made a few quiet remarks on the performances to his wife. Louisa in her turn softly answered his commentary with that of her own. They sat with their chairs close to each other, their heads bent together.

On the other side of the box, Caroline sat a little too close to Darcy, whose mouth was so grimly pursed he looked as if he were eating lemons. Her hand was always on his arm. Her voice was slightly unmodulated, for she was playing to the crowd just as surely as any of the actors. She was at the play to be seen, and to be seen close to Mr. Darcy.

She flirted and simpered. She remarked upon high-ranking persons in the audience. “There is Miss Beauchamp! Such an accomplished girl, but that squint! Oh, and there is Lord Ashbury! Oh, I think he is waving! ...”

Darcy retreated more and more behind his rigid mask of hauteur, and counted the seconds to the interval. He tried catching Bingley’s eye, in the hopes of directing some of Miss Bingley’s attention away from himself. Bingley, however, had retreated into preoccupied gloom again, his chin on his hand, taking no notice either of the play or of his sister.

The interval came at last and the gentlemen left the box to procure refreshments for the ladies. As Mr. Hurst stood with Darcy and Bingley, his eye was caught by a fashionable couple strolling past. He realized with pleasure that it was Mr. Gardiner, and that the elegant lady with him must be his wife. He stepped toward them and called out a greeting.

“Oh, Mr. Hurst!” said Gardiner, “What a surprise this is! I didn’t expect to see you until after Twelthnight! May I take this opportunity to present my wife?”

 “Mrs. Gardiner, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” said Mr. Hurst, bowing over her hand. “It has been a marvelous experience working with your husband. May I ask if you are enjoying the play?”

Mrs. Gardiner smiled and replied that indeed she was, and made some very perceptive remarks upon Mr. Sheridan’s work. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley could not help but listen, and they stepped over to join the group. Mr. Hurst made the introductions. The conversation touched on the performance and other works of the playwright, and then veered briefly into Mr. Gardiner’s business. Darcy and Bingley were actually smiling, impressed with Hurst’s new partner, and with his charming, well-spoken wife. The waiter brought their drinks, and it seemed no time at all had passed before the bell rang, and they returned to their seats.

The second act was dramatically performed, both on the stage and in their box. Again, the Hursts sat quietly together while Caroline held court over the rest of their party, and anybody else within earshot. Louisa blushed for her sister, and her fingers strayed to her jewelry, but her husband squeezed her hand reassuringly. Darcy’s countenance grew progressively more pale and frozen. Some part of his brain cried out in pain, and looking down, he discovered that he was gripping the arms of his chair so tightly that his fingers were white. He could hear titters of amusement coming from nearby boxes. He had never been so mortified in his life.

***

There was one particularly interested observer of Caroline Bingley’s behavior. A stunningly dressed and coiffured woman sat in the next box, acutely observing every detail of Caroline’s performance. At first she had been merely entertained by the lady’s efforts and by her companions’ embarrassment, but at some point the wheels began to turn, and she realized that this social climber was known to her, and that renewing their acquaintance could be useful.

Baroness Sophronia Riverton, rich, titled, and beautiful, was only a few years older than Caroline, but much more advanced in sophistication and cynicism. They had attended school at the same time. Lady Sophronia chuckled to herself at the recollection.

When they had been in school, Caroline had doggedly pursued Sophronia and other girls from noble families. She had unabashedly wangled invitations to balls and houseparties. Veiled insults, icy glares, or whispered gossip never seemed to penetrate Caroline’s armor; they just made her more determined.

Sophonia turned her attention away and smiled fondly at her husband, an elderly baron, dozing in the seat next to hers. She reached over and patted his hand. Her eyes then drifted across the theater to a handsome young man in a box opposite hers. She caught his eye and gave him a smoldering look. He smirked, made an exaggerated wink, and then turned his attention back to the young lady at his side.

 ***

The evening’s entertainment at an end, the theater goers went out into the night. The temperature had plummeted, and a crisp smell of snow freshened the city air.  At length the Darcy carriage rolled up to the Hurst’s townhouse. No amount of teasing or pouting could persuade Mr. Darcy or Mr. Bingley to come in. Both claimed weariness and the need to be up early in the morning. Caroline sulked but still considered the evening to be a great success.

They went inside, and Louisa stood with Gilbert in the main hall. “That was a splendid evening, my love,” he said, taking both her hands in his and placing a soft, lingering kiss on her cheek. “I am afraid I am also fatigued. Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.” Louisa, her hand unconsciously touching the spot his lips had caressed, watched him climb the stairs, feeling a sensation of loss. Then, seeing Caroline bearing down on her ready to rehash the evening, she too fled the room.

 ***

Later that evening, Lady Sophronia lay naked amid the tangled sheets of her bed and reviewed the events of the evening in her mind. Imagine Caroline Bingley thinking she could catch Fitzwilliam Darcy! She chuckled to herself. Sophronia herself, in her first season, had tried to attract Darcy and failed. A brassy parvenu like Caroline would never stand a chance. Still, one had to give her credit for perseverance. Smirking, she stretched langorously and rolled over to the supine body of her lover. The young man stirred as she ran her palm over his flat stomach, then lower. He raised his golden head and smiled into her eyes. “Again, my love?” he said. “Yes, indeed,” she whispered, and covered his lithe young body with hers. It had been a most satisfying day.

***

As the clock struck 2:00, Darcy sat slouched in his darkened study, brandy in hand, staring at the banked coals of the fire. He reproached himself for ever having partnered with Caroline. When they had hatched their plan to remove Charles from Netherfield, he had not realized how much she would infer that they were now bound together. In addition to that, visions of interminable balls, parties, introductions, and the calculating stares of mothers and daughters made him wonder why he had ever thought he could spend the winter in town.

Most of all, the unshakeable memory of a pair of fine eyes and a burbling laugh had completely destroyed his equilibrium. Sweeping a hand through his disordered hair, his unhappy thoughts then went to his sister. He rebuked himself for neglecting her. His decision was made. He wrote a note to Bingley, and another to Colonel Fitzwilliam. A light snow was falling in the weak predawn light when Mr. Darcy climbed into his carriage and struck out for Pemberley.

Caroline Bingley didn’t even wait a day before she sent an invitation to dine over to the denizens of Darcy House. That evening, when Charles was the only gentleman to walk into the saloon, she was furious to learn that not only had Mr. Darcy not come to dine, but that he had removed himself from her presence for the rest of the winter.

***

The long, warm autumn ended abruptly, and winter arrived at Longbourn. Several inches of snow were already on the ground, unusual for mid-December. The chill in the air had a bite to it, although not enough to keep Elizabeth from her perambulations around the countryside.

She stepped inside, just in time for breakfast after a long walk. Her hands and feet were numb with cold. Her rambles had taken her in the direction of Netherfield before she realized it, and she had taken a long look at the darkened manor house from a distance. Mr. Darcy’s face appeared before her, his dark eyes focused unswervingly on her. She shivered, and a tingle went up her spine. She hated to admit, even to herself, how unnerving that had been. _Arrogant, conceited man!_

Mary and Jane were sitting together at the breakfast table, and Jane was unfolding a piece of paper while Mary watched. Reading it, Jane blinked rapidly for a moment; then smiled at Mary, reaching to touch her arm.

“Oh, Mary, how sweet of you! Thank you for making this for me. I will cherish it.”

Seeing Elizabeth standing in the door, she said, “Lizzy, look what Mary has made for me,” and passed her the paper. On it was a verse from the Bible that read, _“And we know all things work together for the good to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose”._ The paper was decorated with small drawings of birds and flowers. Jane rose, taking the paper back from Elizabeth. She wrapped an arm around Mary’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze, and then left the room. Mary stiffened slightly and looked down at her breakfast.

Elizabeth looked at Mary, whose prim, affected countenance was colored by a faint blush. “Jane has been trying to hide her sadness, but I could tell. I hoped to lift her spirits a little,” Mary said, sounding faintly defensive.

“That was very kind of you, Mary,” Elizabeth said gently.

“Dear Jane! I wish I could do more for her,” sighed Mary. Elizabeth had not thought anyone else had noticed Jane’s distress but herself. She patted Mary’s hand, and both sisters rose to start the day.

***

The next several days were difficult for the Hursts. Charles had retreated to Darcy House, where his host had left a note prevailing upon him to stay throughout the winter. Caroline prowled moodily about the townhouse, too vexed even to make her morning calls. Hurst took refuge in visits to his club or hid in his study, in the chair next to the liquor cabinet. Louisa began looking desperate, and Gilbert realized guiltily that he needed to come to her aid. If he was going to court his wife, he needed to do a better job of it.

The next morning he told the ladies that he was at their disposal, and that they could all go to the shops. Louisa threw him a grateful look, and as soon as cloaks and wraps were found, and the carriage called, they were out the door. As they walked up the street and stepped in and out of milliners, jewelers, and modistes, Caroline began to regain her spirits. Louisa too, enjoyed the family outing. Gilbert surreptitiously watched Louisa as she admired an emerald necklace and earrings. That gave him an idea, and as the ladies left the jeweler’s shop, Gilbert quietly stepped around to look at the necklace. It was a short time later in their shopping excursion, as they stepped back out on the street from a fashionable milliner’s, that Caroline heard someone call her name.

“Goodness me, is that Caroline Bingley?” called a honeyed contralto voice behind them. The three turned around to see a luxurious carriage embellished with a family crest pulling up alongside them. The smiling face of a beautiful woman leaned out through the window. Caroline did a double take. ”Lady Sophronia!” she gasped, hardly believing her luck. She had always admired and envied her haute ton former schoolmate, and here she was, glad to see her! Calling out her name! In a public street! Next to her, Gilbert and Louisa stood stock still, exchanging startled glances. When it became clear that Caroline was too enthralled to make introductions, they both quickly stepped back.

“Why Caroline, I was just thinking about you the other day, and here you are!” cooed Sophronia. _This is going to be even easier than I thought._

“You were thinking of _me_?” repeated Caroline, flushed with excitement.

“But of course,” said the baroness. “My intimate friend Lady Drayton; you remember Annabelle, dear; mentioned you not long ago. She had seen a gown of a particular blue, and she said the color reminded her of a gown you had when we were in school.”  There was a tiny element of truth in Sophronia’s lie. Lady Drayton had indeed mentioned that gown once, but only to remark upon its excess of lace.

More pleasantries were exchanged and at length Sophronia asked, “Caroline, would you care to call at Riverton House? I have some friends whom I would like you to meet.”

“Why, yes… yes, I would enjoy chatting with you again!” Caroline answered, struggling to gather her wits about her, “We have so much catching up to do!”

“That would be lovely, dear,” exclaimed Sophronia, reeling in her catch, “I will be at home on Thursday morning.”

And so it was agreed, and the elegant carriage rolled away. Caroline turned quickly to her sister and brother-in-law, her eyes ablaze with calculation. “Louisa,” she proclaimed urgently, “we must return to Madame Justine’s shop. I will have that peach silk gown we admired earlier. And the pearl earrings! And the lace shawl!” So back they went, wending their way again to the shops, as Caroline plotted her entrance into the highest circles. _If only Mr. Darcy could see me now_!

***

Elizabeth sat next to her Aunt Philips, pouring coffee for her aunt’s guests. As she poured and chatted with her neighbors, her eyes alighted on Mr. Wickham. Across the room, he held the attention of a small group of Meryton ladies, reciting once again with a martyred yet noble expression his tale of persecution at the hands of Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth concentrated on being attentive to her aunt’s guests, but her mouth tightened and her eyelids flicked in annoyance. She enjoyed the dashing officer, but could he not be aware of how inappropriate it was to recount his story again and again to persons he hardly knew? What had happened to the sentiments he had expressed so prettily early in their acquaintance, that he could never expose Mr. Darcy to disgrace while he still had kind thoughts of his father? She now understood that Mr. Wickham’s desire to be the center of attention and sympathy outweighed his discretion. Darcy’s disgust of Wickham came to mind, and Elizabeth felt a glimmer of understanding.

Within a few minutes, Kitty came and sat next to Elizabeth. “Would you care for some coffee, Kitty?” asked Elizabeth.

Kitty grimaced. “No, thank you, Lizzy, I don’t like the taste of coffee. I just came to sit over here away from Mr. Wickham’s stories. I’ve already heard them a dozen times. Lizzy, I know you are fond of Mr. Wickham, and that Mr. Darcy is very unpleasant and disagreeable, but don’t you think it is wrong for him to say those things about Mr. Darcy when he isn’t here to defend himself?”

Elizabeth smiled at her younger sister. “I was thinking the same thing. That is very perceptive of you, Kitty. I’m glad that you are considering what kind of behavior is appropriate in society,” she said kindly.

Kitty squirmed uncomfortably in her seat and frowned, her eyes fixed on the floor. “To tell you the truth Lizzy, ever since the ball at Netherfield, I have been feeling ashamed of how I have behaved at parties,” she said. “Mr. Bingley’s sister…”

Elizabeth snapped to attention. “Did Miss Bingley say something to you?” she asked sharply, feeling her hackles rise.

“No, it wasn’t Miss Bingley, it was the other one… Mrs. Hurst. And she didn’t say anything. I saw her looking at me…. oh, it’s hard to explain… as if she pitied me!” Kitty said. “I have barely even spoken to her, but I don’t think she is like Miss Bingley. She talks very little, but her eyes are kind. It made me think of how I must look to other people. I want people to admire me, not laugh at me!”

Elizabeth sent a silent thank you to Mrs. Hurst. “That is very mature point of view, Kitty. I admire you already!” she said as she squeezed her sister’s hand.

They heard a commotion from the other side of the room. Two officers were laughing uproariously at Lydia, who had one of their hats precariously perched on her silvery-blonde ringlets. Lydia, a gifted and aggravating mimic, was also laughing, too loud for politeness, and they could see by her movements that her tall shapely figure was engaged in a little performance for the officers’ benefit. It quickly became apparent that she was imitating their commanding officer.

Elizabeth’s wide eyes quickly searched the room. “Don’t worry, Lizzy,” whispered Kitty, “Colonel Forster left the party earlier. He isn’t here.”

“Thank heaven for that!” answered Elizabeth, turning her eyes back to Lydia, just in time to see one of the officers winking at the other one, and handing over a shilling.

***

 “I don’t doubt that she’ll be here as early as permissible,” said Lady Sophronia to her dearest friend Lady Annabelle Drayton.

Annabelle laughed. “I daresay this will seem to her to be the entrée to the ton that she has always been waiting for,” she said in agreement, and then added, “I declare, Sophy, I almost feel sorry for her!”

The Baroness scoffed, “Oh, Bella, really! It’s not as if we are going to hurt her in any way! She will enjoy our society and all the benefits afforded to her of it, and of course she will never know of her role as camouflage! I would go so far as to declare that she will have the best time of her life!”

“But surely at some point she will realize that she is being used most shamelessly!” exclaimed Annabelle.

“I don’t believe she will. All she will be aware of will be that she is moving in the highest circles,” said Sophronia matter-of-factly. “She has always been exceptionally conscious of her own consequence. She won’t notice anything that goes on around her, only if it relates to her own status directly.”

A short time later that morning, Caroline arrived at Riverton House and was ushered in by the butler. She was shown through a magnificent hall to a large and sumptuously appointed morning room. Other visitors were already there. The Baroness rose and crossed the room to greet her.

 “Caroline! I’m so glad you came! We can all spend a lovely morning together.” Lady Sophronia took her hand. “Let me present you to my dear husband.” The Baroness led her to an elderly man sitting in an armchair. “Miss Bingley, may I present Baron Riverton of Abbotsford Park. My darling Rupert, may I present Miss Caroline Bingley.”

Old Baron Riverton, smiling dimly, slowly stood up while Caroline made a deep curtsy. The old man somewhat shakily bowed over Caroline’s hand. “Pleasure, m’dear” he mumbled, and almost fell back into his chair.  

Lady Sophronia fussed over him for a few minutes, and then straightened to take Caroline around the room for introductions, linking their arms companionably together. “My dear friend Broughton, this is the lady I was telling you about. Miss Caroline Bingley, may I present Lord Broughton.”

Another deep curtsy from Caroline. “It is an honor, my lord,” she said.

“Why, Sophy, she is even lovelier than you promised!” drawled the tall blond man with an immaculate tailcoat that accentuated his broad shoulders.

Caroline blushed and an uneven high-pitched titter escaped her mouth. She gurgled, “Thank you my lord, you’re too kind,” and held out her hand to him. He took her hand and bowed over it, pressing it warmly.

“Here, Broughton, don’t be greedy,” huffed another well-dressed man walking over to them. “Miss Bingley,” drawled Lord Broughton, “this poor specimen is our friend Lord Norling.”

“Delighted to meet you, Miss Bingley! Lady Sophronia has described you as quite lovely, and I can see that she has not exaggerated,” smiled the Viscount.

For an instant, Caroline stopped talking, her jaw going slack.  Recovering herself, she purred, “Dear Lady Sophronia, we have known each other for such a long time. We are quite old friends!”

At that point Lady Drayton bustled across the room holding out both hands to Caroline. “Lady Drayton!” said Caroline, curtsying again. “Oh just call me Bella, dear. We’ve known each other too long for formalities,” cooed Annabelle.

Caroline surreptitiously pinched herself. This was not a dream. It was actually happening, at long last! She was going to be counted among the Quality!

The morning flew by. There were _so_ many introductions. Lady Judith Spurlock, countess, estate in Gloucestershire; her sister Cornelia Markham, affianced to a viscount; Jonathan Mortimer, second son of a marquess, estate in Leicestershire; Sir Magnus Wareham, estate in Lincolnshire; and on and on.

At last Lady Sophronia ushered Caroline to the door. “Caro, it has been such a pleasure to have you here this morning. We are having a little musical evening tomorrow, just a small group of intimate friends to enjoy dinner and then play and sing together. Pray do join us, dear. We would love to hear you play the pianoforte. I do hope you haven’t given it up!” said the Baroness.

Caroline arranged her gleeful features in what she hoped was a modest expression. “Thank you Lady Sophronia. I simply adore music! I would be very happy to oblige you!”

“Until tomorrow evening then, at 8:00? We will look forward to it,” said Sophronia.

Caroline floated home with visions of bowling over the assembled company with her musical talents. She came in the saloon and was met by Louisa. “How did your morning go, Caroline?” asked her sister.

“Wonderfully, my dear Louisa! I have made the acquaintance of many august persons today. They were particularly welcoming to me, and Lady Sophronia has insisted that I be her guest at a musical evening tomorrow, and sing and play for her friends. This is what I have been waiting for, Louisa! Sophronia remembers me from school and wishes me to be her intimate friend!” crowed Caroline.

Louisa’s eyes sharpened at Caroline’s use of the baroness’ given name.  “Should you be so familiar with Lady Sophronia? I don’t remember that she was ever a friend to you at school.”

“Silly schoolgirl rivalries are all forgotten now, Louisa,” trilled Caroline. “We have met again and she wishes me to be part of her circle. Her titled and noble friends have all been most cordial and welcoming.  Now I must look over my music and choose what pieces to play!” She gleefully hurried from the room. Louisa watched her go, doubt written all over her face.

***

Elizabeth glanced across the room at Mr. Wickham. He was sitting next to Miss King, a sweet, chubby, cow-eyed girl with a round freckled face, flirting with her and making her giggle. Jane sat down next to her, eyeing the mismatched couple.

“Do Mr. Wickham’s attentions to Miss King disappoint you, Lizzy?” Jane asked quietly.

Elizabeth’s mouth quirked up at one side. “No, my watchful sister! Mr. Wickham has always been very plain about his need to marry for money. To be sure, I find that I am relieved. This may sound like sour grapes, Jane, but I have been tiring of Mr. Wickham for some time now. Yes, he is charming and handsome, but he has only one topic of conversation, and that is himself. I guess I was never in love with him,” she concluded, making a mock-tragic face at her sister.

Jane smiled and took her hand. “Then I am relieved, too,” she said.

Charlotte’s wedding had been a few days previous, and all the neighbors at Mrs. Long’s card party were still talking of it. Elizabeth missed her already. With Charlotte gone, and Wickham turning into such a bore, she wondered who she would have left to converse with, besides Jane and Papa?

***

At Riverton House, the elegant dining room glowed with candle light. Caroline, dressed in an elaborate new gown with matching headdress, entered the dining room on the arm of Viscount Norling and he seated her.  Every dish was delicious, and the wine flowed. The conversation was convivial. Caroline soaked it up. She sat near Lady Drayton, with Norling on her right and Broughton on her left.  After the last dish was served, the gentlemen sat for a short interval with cigars, while the ladies settled themselves in the music room. When the gentlemen joined them, the musicale could begin.

Sophronia invited Annabelle to begin, and Lady Drayton laughed and went to the pianoforte. She played a Beethoven sonata and some traditional songs. Lord Broughton turned the pages for her, and then they sang a duet. Caroline determined to herself that she and Broughton would sing together. He had a fine baritone voice.  Two other ladies played, one on the pianoforte and one on the harp. Caroline silently champed at the bit, her music clutched tightly in her hands, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Miss Mary Bennet in her desire to exhibit her accomplishments.  

At last Sophronia turned to her and said, “Caro, I’ve been so looking forward to hearing you play, if you would please entertain us?” Caroline rose and forced herself to walk casually to the instrument. “I’m most happy to oblige, dear Sophronia.” Viscount Norling came forward to turn the pages for her at the same time that Broughton also rose with the same idea. The two men glared at each other briefly and then Broughton bowed to Norling and sat down.

To showcase her abilities, Caroline had chosen a very difficult piece. She played through it without making a mistake, her technical skills showing to the best advantage. To the assembled company however, it was the absent qualities of Miss Bingley’s playing that defined her performance, though they applauded politely. While Caroline could play the most difficult music flawlessly, it was the lack of sensibility and expression in her playing that struck her listeners.

Caroline beamed at the applause, and then pulled another piece of music from her collection. It was a traditional air, one which she knew to be well-suited to her vocal range. Again, a technically perfect performance, but her voice was affected and unnatural. Still, Broughton spoke to her afterward to praise her performance warmly, and later, when the evening came to an end, offered to drive her home in his carriage. Caroline was triumphant.

Lord Broughton, after walking Caroline to her door and then leaving Grosvenor Square, did not have his coachman turn the carriage in the direction of his own home, but back to Riverton House. He alighted from the carriage and sent it on to his own residence, watching for a moment as it drove away. He then entered through the kitchen, taking the narrow back stairway up two flights of stairs and stepping through a small door. He was in a luxurious bedroom, darkened except for a candle branch by the side of a huge bed. “Alfred,” said a low and melodious voice, “you were marvelous. Perhaps a career on the stage for you, dearest?”

He laughed, removing his greatcoat and draping it over a chair. Then he approached the large bed, sitting on the side closest to Sophronia. “I thought the dispute with Norling over turning the pages was a nice touch,” he grinned down at her naked form, illuminated by candlelight. She laughed, then reached up and began untying his cravat.

***

Over the subsequent weeks, Caroline spent most of her time with Lady Sophronia and her circle, attending balls, routs, card parties, and dinners. Indeed, she was scarcely to be seen at the Hursts’ townhouse at all. She was always escorted home by Lord Broughton or Lord Norling, or one of the other handsome gentlemen who seemed to always be at Riverton House.  After one very late evening, or early morning, Sophronia invited her to stay overnight. More and more frequently, Caroline was a guest at the expansive townhouse on Hanover Square. Finally, one morning, Lady Sophronia invited her to stay at Riverton House for the season.

Louisa heard Caroline’s voice, and realized that she must have arrived home from spending yet another night with the baroness. She followed the sound to her sister’s rooms, finding Caroline grabbing armfuls of clothing from her dressing room and throwing them on her bed. Back and forth she ran between the dressing room and the bed, all the while urgently calling for her maid, Bertha, to order her trunks. Louisa stopped dead on the threshold, taking in the scene.

“Caroline, what are you doing?” she asked.

Caroline startled, so intent on her purpose that she hadn’t noticed Louisa in the doorway. “Louisa!” she shrieked, her eyes ablaze. “Sophronia had invited me to be her special houseguest for the season! I shall be taking all of my clothing and jewelry and my maid with me!” Then she rounded on Bertha, who had returned with footmen carrying the trunks and was folding and smoothing some of the gowns that had been thrown in haste on the bed. “Can’t you work any faster?” she cried to the hapless maid.

“Caroline, you must compose yourself! Why are you in such a hurry? Are you afraid that Lady Sophronia will rescind her offer?” cried Louisa.

Caroline froze for an instant. That thought had not occurred to her. She began to work even faster, throwing clothing into the trunks regardless of what condition they would be in upon unpacking. “Make haste, make haste!” she cried to Bertha. Louisa, feeling pity for the maid, was sorry she had said anything.

“Caroline,” Louisa reasoned, “You are going to ruin your gowns. Let me call Clara to help. She and Bertha will be able to pack much more quickly without us in their way.”

“Yes,” said Caroline, breathing hard, “Yes. I will see if there is any music I would like to bring.” She hurriedly left for the music room.

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Bertha, with a small curtsy. Louisa smiled at her. “I’ll send Clara,” and went to find her maid.

Within a few hours, Caroline’s trunks and boxes were packed and loaded onto the carriage, ready to make the trip to Hanover Square. Louisa stood at a drawing room window, watching it drive away. Sighing, she turned and looked around the large, deserted room. “Now what?” she asked aloud to the silence.

***

Louisa was left adrift, and Gilbert saw his chance.

He began with no little trepidation. He understood that courting Louisa meant that they would get to know each other much better. _What if,_ _once she gets to know me, she finds me disagreeable? What if she dislikes everything about me?_ They were already married. There was no backing out if she did. He had no fears of the opposite happening. He knew he would love getting to know her.

He began by spending more time with her during the day. They lingered over the breakfast table, sharing the newspaper, discussing news and gossip. He sat in the music room with her while she practiced and complimented her playing. Gilbert had never had musical instruction, and he asked her to show him how she read music. They talked about what she was reading. They went to the lending library, and Gilbert playfully threatened to read her romantic novels aloud to her, as she blushed and turned away to hide her smile. He held her hand on the carriage ride home.

One windy evening, as the sleet pelted down outside, they sat in front of the drawing room fire and played backgammon. Gilbert took only one glass of wine, Louisa forgot to fidget, and they caught each other’s eyes again and again.

Late that night, Louisa lay awake, wishing Gilbert would come to her room. It had been such a long time. Her eyes moved to the door that separated their bedchambers. _Is he awake?_ What would he think of her if she came to him?

Gilbert _was_ awake, staring at the opposite side of the same door. It was all he could do to stay away from Louisa. She had looked so beautiful and inviting tonight. _No. I am courting her. It will have to be her free choice to be together with me again._

With her husband’s gentle and undivided attention, Louisa Hurst began to come into her own.

***

The carriage pulled up to Longbourn, having taken almost twice as long to travel there from London as it usually did. The Gardiners had been shocked at the depth of the snow once they had traveled out of the city. Even though Hertfordshire wasn’t a long journey north, it was colder and snowier than in town. The children had slept part of the way, but they were all now awake and very restless. The carriage had been terribly cold inside, too. They all heaved a sigh of relief when they turned off the main road and into Meryton. The front door to the old manor house at Longbourn opened and out came Mr. and Mrs. Bennet to welcome them with open arms. Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary followed and helped hurry the children out of the carriage and into the warm house. Footmen unloaded boxes and portmanteaus, and the carriage was driven over to the stables and the horses unhitched and rubbed down after their long day. It was time for Yuletide celebrations to begin.

After dinner, Mrs. Gardiner sat down for a cozy chat with her favorite niece. “So, Lizzy,” she said quietly, “How is Jane faring?”

“Not any better I fear, Aunt,” replied Elizabeth in low tones, careful that neither her parents nor her sister would overhear. Mrs. Gardiner glanced across the drawing room at Jane. She was sitting on the floor, spinning a brightly painted wooden top for her youngest cousin. She had her usual smile in place, but Mrs. Gardiner could see that her eyes lacked their characteristic glow. “Uncle Gardiner and I are looking forward to having her with us in London,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “It is to be hoped that a change of scenery will do her good.”

Elizabeth agreed. She knew there was a very slight risk that Jane might encounter Mr. Darcy, the Bingleys or the Hursts in London, but that it was unlikely. Her aunt and uncle were certainly not of the same society as that of their former neighbors.

Aunt Gardiner steered the conversation to another topic. “Lizzy,” asked her aunt, “Do you still see Mr. Wickham? Would I like to meet him?”

One corner of Elizabeth’s mouth turned into a wry twist. “Mr. Wickham, I’m afraid, has become rather tedious,” she answered.

Her aunt’s eyebrows rose in inquiry. “He has only one conversation, of how he has been wronged and left in poverty by his former patron’s son,” Elizabeth went on. “Although he can be a very charming conversationalist, that topic bores me. He also needs to marry for money. Lately he has developed a sudden tendre for Miss Mary King, who recently inherited 10,000 pounds.”

“How do you feel about that, Lizzy?” asked her aunt.

Elizabeth reflected briefly, and was confounded that Mr. Wickham had begun to compare unfavorably with his nemesis, Mr. Darcy. No matter how proud and disagreeable Mr. Darcy was, he was honorable and would never publicly discuss a private matter. _Pity_. She had rather enjoyed disliking Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth smiled dryly. “I can truthfully say that while I enjoyed Mr. Wickham’s company for a time, my heart has not been touched. I wasn’t in love with him, Aunt, and I guess I always did know that. He was quite entertaining for a while, however.”

“I’m happy to hear that, Lizzy,” said her aunt. “Perhaps you would like to come down to town later this winter and meet more people your own age. You must miss Charlotte.”

“I do, Aunt,” her niece said wistfully. “I would very much like to broaden my acquaintance.”

***

Christmas was only a few days away, and Louisa had not heard from Caroline since she, her maid, and her trunks had departed. She wrote a note to her sister inviting her to come home and celebrate the holiday with them, and then sent a footman over to Riverton House with it. The note was passed from footman to butler to maid to Bertha, who duly delivered it to her mistress. Caroline glanced at the envelope and set it aside for later perusal. She had a soiree to dress for.

Two days passed with no response, and Louisa understood that she was probably not going to hear from her sister. She was not terribly disappointed. _Perhaps I should be offended,_ she mused, but Caroline must be enjoying herself as a house guest of the Baroness, and she could enjoy Christmas with Gilbert and Charles.

 ***

After attending church on Christmas Day, Gilbert and Charles sat next to the fire in the music room, sipping hot buttered rum. Louisa had gone to see about luncheon, and the two gentlemen were companionably silent.

Gilbert heard a heavy sigh and turned his gaze from the fire to his brother, considering him for a few moments. “Charles,” he said gently, “have you given any thought to visiting Netherfield again? I would wager that Miss Bennet would be glad to see you. Perhaps there would be a New Year’s Eve assembly in Meryton.”

Charles’ eyes were staring a thousand miles away. “I never took my leave of her, you know. The last time we spoke I had intended to return within a few days. I can’t write to her, since I had not asked her for a courtship. I was going to do that when I returned from town.” He looked at Hurst. “Gilbert, do you think…?”

“I think you should follow your heart, and to the devil with anyone else,” Hurst answered.

Louisa entered the room at that moment, carrying a tray full of Christmas delicacies. For the rest of the afternoon they all sat together singing while Louisa played the pianoforte, and the fire burned brightly. They dined together merrily, regaling each other with childhood stories of the holiday until the hour grew late and Charles made his goodbyes.

Louisa had never heard Gilbert’s stories before, and treasured them. She began to imagine him as a little boy and wondered about his parents. All she knew was that his mother had died young, and that his father had nearly lost the family seat before dying himself. A picture formed in her mind, of two lost little boys, and her heart ached for him. She wished to know more. He hadn’t made a nocturnal visit to her for several weeks, and she missed him more than she had ever imagined she could.

***

Later that night, Charles sat with his feet up on an ottoman in Darcy’s study, an unread newspaper in his hand, staring meditatively into the fire. The ache in his heart persisted. He thought of Gilbert’s advice. _Listen to your heart_ , he had said weeks before, and had repeated it that afternoon. Charles resolved to go to Netherfield, maybe even tomorrow. Just then, the door opened and in walked Darcy’s cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Charles made to rise, but Richard waved him to remain seated.

“Good evening, Bingley, and happy Christmas to you! I’m glad to see you! Am I to understand that you have this big house all to yourself?” said the Colonel as he shook Bingley’s hand heartily and sat down on a chair next to him. “I’ve been away and just received Darcy’s message declaring his intention to leave town. I came to see for myself.”

“Yes, your esteemed cousin sounded the retreat and returned to Pemberley,” Charles laughed, “so far he hasn’t even answered my letters.”

“My father hasn’t heard from him either,” said Richard, “but I’m not concerned. Derbyshire has already had two major snowstorms, even this early in the winter, and I don’t think the post is getting in or out. Most of the roads are closed. No sooner do they get them open but they drift shut again.”

“Really?” frowned Bingley. “I had just been thinking about riding up to Hertfordshire. What have you heard about travel there?”

“My commanding officer has heard from Colonel Forster that travel has been hazardous there as well. The roads have drifted shut, and the weather has been so bad that most of the regiment has been confined to barracks.” Bingley’s face fell, and he stared into the fire again.

The Colonel studied Bingley’s face. His mouth turned down, his eyes looked strained and somber. Richard wouldn’t have believed that such an amiable man could look so melancholy. _I wonder what happened in Hertfordshire?_ Whatever it was, Bingley was still feeling the effects, and the Colonel wondered if the same was true of Darcy. 

If Bingley hadn’t been sitting before him looking so forlorn, he would have laughed out loud at the idea of Darcy in one of his sulks.


	3. "We cannot expect to be rescued"

Darcy did not regret his decision to leave London. The wind was raw and bitter, the snow was already deep, and it was clear that there would be little if any travel beyond his estate. Delivery of the post had become intermittent, and then ceased altogether. He was not bothered in the least, in fact he was relieved. Everyone he cared about most was here, with one exception, and he could not with any propriety further _that_ acquaintance. He was grateful to be spending Christmastide at Pemberley, the main rooms beautifully decorated with holly and evergreen boughs, and the enormous Yule log burning in the drawing room fireplace.

His sister, Georgiana, was glad of his company, and they spent contented hours planning for Boxing Day and other celebrations of the season for their tenants and staff. Still, Georgiana had a sense that her brother was not completely with her. He smiled at all the proper moments and was gentlemanly and gracious, yet there was most definitely a distance, a chasm between them. He was often preoccupied. Their conversations were little more than small talk. She sighed deeply, and felt her eyes burn with unshed tears. Would they never get past the fiasco at Ramsgate?

Georgiana closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and focused on her conversations with Mrs. Annesley. She wasn’t going to waste her tears over that episode any more. _I am a Darcy._ _I will no longer make myself miserable over that lying scoundrel._

***

Her eyes roving the crowded ballroom at Almack’s, Caroline could hardly believe her luck, beyond excitement at having finally gained an entrée. All her attempts on the past had come to nothing. As the special friend and houseguest of Baroness Riverton, she found herself at the center of the most elite social circles in London. Every day she met more of the highest-ranking people, and was accepted by them because of her friendship with Sophronia. The dashing Lord Broughton couldn’t take his eyes off her. Caroline had always thought herself partial to dark men like Darcy, but Lord Broughton was fair.  The other gentlemen were very solicitous of her as well. Annabelle, Lady Drayton, treated her as a cozy conspirator.

In her smug delight, Caroline had completely forgotten about how sarcastically condescending they had been to her in school. She and the other ladies of Sophronia’s circle sat together talking and laughing, making a running commentary of snide remarks about those outside their clique. She knew that her brother and sister would think her new friends rather wicked, but Caroline didn’t care. She had arrived. _Wouldn’t Mr. Darcy want me now?_

She pictured Mr. Darcy walking into a crowded ballroom and seeing her laughing with her new friends, a vision of sophistication and breeding. In her imagination, he would walk right over to her to claim a dance, only to find them all taken.

***

The Bennets, the Philips’ and the Gardiners had the merriest of Christmases together. There were games, music, and plenty of delicious food. The children played in the snow and skated on the pond, already covered with thick ice early in the season. On Christmas Day they attended church together and then returned to Longbourn for a sumptuous dinner, merrymaking, and song. The children played until they were happily exhausted.

The morning after Christmas, Mr. Bennet lay in his bed. He knew he should get up, but he was feverish and ached all over. His brother-in-law sat with him and played a game of cribbage, which was enough to exhaust him. Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth tended to him, but by the end of the day he was worse.

By New Year’s Eve, he had dragged himself downstairs and insisted he was on the mend, but Mr. Gardiner was unconvinced. The time drew near for the Gardiners to return to London. Not only were they uneasy about leaving while Mr. Bennet was so ill, but the weather had also remained bitter and stormy. More snow had fallen during their visit and travel was treacherous.  The decision was complicated by the fact that both farmhands had been given leave to go to their families over the holidays, and it was by no means clear when they would be able to make their way back. They sat with Mrs. Bennet, and Mr. and Mrs. Philips, debating what to do. Philips said pragmatically, ”I know you need to go back to London and attend to business, Edward. We will help Fanny and the girls take care of Tom. The footmen can assist the groom. And you can return to Longbourn later if you need to.” It was agreed.

As the Gardiners packed to leave, Jane came into their chamber and announced that she wouldn’t be traveling with them after all. “I cannot leave when Papa is so ill. Perhaps I can visit you later this winter.”

“Oh, Jane! Are you sure?” asked her aunt.

“Yes, Aunt, my place is here. I need to stay with my family.” Jane was certain about her decision. She had a feeling that if she went to London now, Lizzy would be left with the weight of the world on her shoulders. The next morning, they bid the Gardiner family goodbye, as snow began falling again.

***

On the last evening of the year, Fitzwilliam Darcy sat comfortably in the music room, a hot toddy cupped in both hands. He was content to rest at the end of a long day of traveling across his estate checking on his tenants. He and his steward had traveled by sleigh, stopping at every cottage to see that each family had enough food, warm clothing, and fuel. Traveling through the snow had been arduous, and by the end of the afternoon he had been chilled through. Still, he was relieved to know that his tenants were safe and well. Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds had fussed over him and filled him up with hot soup and freshly baked bread. He was looking forward to being entertained with music, and smiled warmly at his sister. Georgiana shuffled through her music, considering what piece might be the most pleasing to her brother. She played a few introductory chords to an old and sentimental air, but her song did not have the desired effect.

Her brother startled and choked, spilling a little of his drink. He shifted abruptly in his chair and called out to her. She stopped singing, her eyes round with surprise. Fitzwilliam had never interrupted her before.

“Er, Georgy, would you mind playing the Haydn piece you’ve been practicing?” asked Darcy.

“Of course, Fitzwilliam,” she said, somewhat flustered, reaching for another sheet of music. As she played the lovely piece on the pianoforte, she wondered if she had done something to offend her brother. It was obvious to her that he was upset, and she could see that he was again preoccupied. He was staring a thousand miles away.

In the matter of a few seconds, Darcy had gone from pleasurable relaxation to uncomfortable agitation. Georgiana had begun at first to perform the lovely air that Elizabeth Bennet had sung at Lucas Lodge. And although his sister went on to play her difficult Haydn piece perfectly, he did not hear it. He was no longer at Pemberley, listening to Georgiana. He was back in Hertfordshire, a vision of Elizabeth rising before him; his mind filling with the sound of her sweet, expressive voice singing an old song of love, her eyes only on him.

***

On New Year’s morning Gilbert found Louisa in the breakfast room. He sat next to her and presented her with a small blue velvet box, with a creamy satin bow decorating it. “Happy New Year, my dear,” he said. She looked at him curiously and opened it, and then her gray eyes widened and she gasped. “Oh, Gilbert!” she gasped. There resting on pale satin, was the emerald necklace and earrings she had silently admired at the jewelers’ weeks before. “How did you know?” she asked in breathless amazement.

“I was watching you the day we went to the shops. I saw the look on your face as you gazed at it,” he said quietly, “and I thought it was about time you had something new and beautiful to wear.”

“Oh, Gilbert, I absolutely love it! Thank you so very much!” she said in wonderment, “but it looks too expensive!”

“My dear, I have realized that in my desire to restore the family resources… _our_ family resources,” he said, looking pointedly at her, “I had forgotten that we need pleasure and beauty in our lives as well. I hope you will take great pleasure in that necklace, and I will take great pleasure in seeing you wear it.”  He placed a soft, feather light kiss on her forehead, and left the room.

Louisa stared after him, wide-eyed, clutching the box to her heart, filled with a sense of yearning. _Who is that man?_

***

Early one morning, a week into the new year, Elizabeth carried a pitcher of water upstairs and saw that the door to her father’s chamber was open. Mrs. Hill was standing in the open doorway and she turned to Elizabeth, distress and worry on her countenance. She moved away so Elizabeth could pass. Elizabeth stood on the threshold, astonished at the sight before her.

Her mother was standing by her father’s bed, tugging at his arm, exhorting him to sit up. “Mr. Bennet! You must get up! All will be well! You must get out of your bed and move about. I am sure you will regain your strength if you make the effort to exercise! Oh, you have no consideration for my nerves!”

“Mrs. Bennet,” said her husband firmly, albeit in a weakened voice, “I would if I could. Do not fuss, madam! All will be well! Just let me rest!” He saw his daughter standing in the door. “Lizzy, help your mother to her chamber!” he commanded, impatience and severity creeping in to his voice.

Elizabeth stepped into the room and set down the pitcher. “Yes, Papa! Mama, may I take your arm?” She reached toward her mother as if to put her arm around her shoulders.

Mrs. Bennet spun around and glared at her second daughter angrily. “You!” she wailed. “Do not touch me! You are the cause of our troubles! You would not have Mr. Collins and now look at us!” Her wails turned into angry sobs. She turned to her husband. “And you would not make your precious favorite marry him! We will all be in the hedgerows!” she cried, her voice rising higher.

“Madam!” shouted her husband, sitting up and shaking with anger. “Go to your chamber until you can calm yourself!” Mrs. Bennet burst into hysterical tears. Jane appeared instantly at her side. “Come, Mama!” she said calmly and firmly. “You need to rest. You are upsetting Papa.” She led her sobbing mother away.

Elizabeth turned. There was almost the entire household, taking in the scene with wide eyes. Mrs. Hill, a footman, two maids, Cook, and all her sisters. She was mortified.  She wished the floor would open and swallow her up. She took a deep breath and turned to her father. “Papa, you must lie down. Please try and calm yourself,” she said as she helped him settle back into his pillows. His outburst had clearly weakened him.

Kitty came to her side. “Lizzy, do you wish to have a few minutes to yourself?” she asked. “I will read to Papa.” Relieved, Lizzy replied, “Yes, Kitty, if you please.”

“Well, Kitty? And how do you propose to entertain me?” said their father querulously. Kitty grinned slyly and held up a copy of Fordyce’s Sermons. “Ha!” he barked a laugh. “Well, it will put me to sleep at any rate!”

Elizabeth threw her sister a grateful look. “Thank you, Kitty,” she said with relief, and left the room, intending to go to her own chamber to try to regain her composure.

“Lizzy,” she heard her name called, and turned around. It was Mary. Mary had spent the previous night sleeping in the chaise in their father’s chamber and still looked rather tousled. Her light brown hair was tied in a simple knot, which suited her much better than her usual severe hairstyle. Lizzy was surprised to find herself smiling at her sister, and Mary smiled tentatively back.

 “May we speak privately, Lizzy?” she asked, and Lizzy gestured her into her room.

“Of course, Mary,” she said. “What do you wish to talk about?” Mary looked into her sister’s face uncertainly for a moment and then awkwardly embraced her. Elizabeth was startled, but her arms slowly went up to encircle her sister, and she found herself hugging her in return.

“Lizzy.” Mary stepped back. “You do understand that Mama is terrified, don’t you?” The sisters gazed into each other’s faces. “Yes, I do,” Elizabeth admitted.

“We all know how she has taken after you, and that it is none of your fault. _All_ of us, even the servants. We all understand, and will try to shield you from it as much as we can.”

Elizabeth felt tears start in her eyes. “Thank you, Mary,” she said, her voice sounding high and unnatural. Mary gave her a tentative smile and left the room, closing the door behind her.

***

Charlotte Collins, nee Lucas, took in the post and recognized the handwriting on one of the letters. She gave the rest of the letters to her husband and took herself off to her own little room to read the missive from her dearest friend.

_“My dear Charlotte,”_ Lizzy wrote _,_

_” I do hope this letter finds you well and happy in Hunsford, and that your winter is mild. We are having quite a stormy season already, and it is only early January. I miss being able to walk to Lucas Lodge and have a chat with you any time I choose, though on a day as cold as this, that would not be possible, even if you were still there._  

_My Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and their children were our guests over Christmas and New Year’s Day. Our time with them was very happy until my father took ill on Boxing Day. Jane was going to join them in London for several weeks but has chosen to stay home and help care for Papa instead. We all keep ourselves indoors, which can be rather a trial._

_Uncle Philips braved the elements on Sunday to bring us news and some letters and documents. He tells us that our neighbors in the town do not venture out unless it is completely necessary. Even the regiment has been confined to their barracks, except for those on guard duty. This may hinder Mr. Wickham in his courtship of Miss King; poor, unfortunate man._

_Please keep us in your prayers, my friend. My father tells us that he will soon recover, but Charlotte, I’ve never seen anyone look as ill as Papa._

_With affection,_

_Lizzy_

_***  
_

A sennight into the new year, Hurst received a note from Mr. Gardiner with the news that he was back in town. They met again at his offices. “First, Mr. Hurst, I wish you a very happy new year,” smiled Gardiner.

“Thank you, sir,” said Hurst, “How did you enjoy your holiday travels?”

Mr. Gardiner’s smile faded. “We did enjoy seeing our family, but my sister’s husband fell ill while we were there, and it is worrisome to us all. He tells us he is recovering, but he looks so pale and drawn that that is hard to believe. We had hoped to bring my eldest niece to town with us for a visit, but she has stayed home to help care for her father. On top of that, the weather almost prevented us from returning at all. We barely managed to make our journey before the roads were drifted shut again.” Mr. Gardiner’s face looked worried and abstracted, his eyebrows furrowed.

“I am truly sorry to hear that,” Mr. Hurst replied. There was an awkward pause in the conversation.

Gardiner finally drew a breath, “Sir, let us discuss the matters at hand. With the help of your investment, I’ve been able to purchase and refit a small ship for short, quick trips to the Continent and back. It’s much more economical than a larger ship. Would you care to see the latest cargo we have received?”

Mr. Hurst and Mr. Gardiner spent several hours in the warehouses, and Hurst learned that his investment was already bringing him a profit. “I wish Mrs. Hurst was with me today,” he said, looking at bolt upon bolt of fine fabrics, laces, furniture, and decorative ornaments. He had also been impressed by the warehouses containing spices and exotic woods.

Mr. Gardiner beamed. “You know Hurst, as part owner of our company, you and your wife would certainly be free to sample our inventory. We don’t give the stuff away of course; that would cut into our profits. However, you could certainly purchase anything you would like at cost, or take it out of your dividends.”

He considered Hurst thoughtfully. “Mr. Hurst, would you and Mrs. Hurst give us the honor of your company for dinner this week?” he asked tentatively. “I would like that very much, Mr. Gardiner,” smiled Hurst, “I would give me great pleasure to introduce my wife to you and Mrs. Gardiner.” They settled on the following Friday evening.

***

 “Louisa, are you as tired of these furnishings as I am?” Gilbert asked that afternoon, looking around the drawing room. “This room has not been refitted since my mother was living. How would you like to redecorate this room?”

Louisa looked about the formerly elegant chamber. Gilbert’s mother had had exquisite taste, but the walls and fabrics were faded, the furniture was worn and patched and the colors were out of date. “I would love to!” she said, “but Gilbert, the expense!”

“I have a surprise for you,” Hurst grinned and sat down next to her, taking her hand in his. “Our latest investments with Mr. Gardiner have been doing very well. Not to mention, Gardiner has warehouses full of fabrics and furniture. As investors, we are allowed to purchase merchandise in the warehouses at cost.”

Gilbert continued, looking sideways at his wife with one raised eyebrow, “I have accepted an invitation from the Gardiners for dinner this Friday. He is in trade and he and his family live on Gracechurch Street, my dear. In _Cheapside_! Caroline would be horrified, of course.” He waited a little uneasily for her answer, but his apprehensions were unfounded. Louisa laughed, “All the more reason we must go, Gilbert!”

***

Mr. Bennet awoke with a start. The darkness was almost complete, a tiny amount of light coming from a guttering candle on the small bedside table. Although raising his aching head was exhausting, he did so and looked around the room. He could see a sleeping form in the chaise and realized with some surprise that it was Kitty. All his daughters had tended to him, but Mary and Kitty spent more time looking after their mother, and his two eldest were his usual nurses. Mr. Bennet laid his swimming head back down on the pillow. He felt a hollow weakness, and suddenly he knew.

He knew that he would not recover, that this would be his last illness. His mind reeled and recoiled from the thought. He could almost hear Fanny’s voice wailing about the hedgerows, and his stomach turned. He had always ridiculed her fears, and now they would become reality. He was overcome with self-recrimination at not having made more of his income.

His wife and children would be close to destitute, and almost certainly homeless. They would be forced to rely on the charity of others. He should be the one to suffer for his own faults, but instead it would be those for whom he should have been responsible.

For a fraction of a second, he almost regretted that he had not arranged the marriage of one of his daughters with Mr. Collins. But no, he could not have stomached that, especially when the conceited parson had settled on Lizzy as his choice.

He turned his head away from the tiny light and shut his eyes tight against the tears that threatened, his heart sinking even lower. Lizzy was working herself to a frazzle helping Jane care for him, taking responsibility for estate manners, all while withstanding frequent tirades from her mother. He had not done right by his family, and he knew she knew it. His dear girl was keeping herself under tight control, but he did sometimes glimpse the simmering anger she kept hidden away.

***

Friday evening arrived, and the Hursts braved the streets of Cheapside. Gracechurch Street proved to be a wide street with newer townhouses, not as imposing as Grosvenor Square, but in the recently popular classical style. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner greeted them warmly, and ushered them into their stylish and comfortable home. They even caught a glimpse of the merry chaos of the Gardiners’ children being put to bed. The dinner and wine put before them were delicious, and the conversation lively and cordial. The Gardiners were well-read and sophisticated, and spoke knowledgably of current issues. Hurst spoke of the remodel of their townhouse, and Mrs. Gardiner and Louisa decided to visit the warehouse together. After dinner, the gentlemen and ladies did not separate, but continued their visit in the pleasant drawing room. Hurst was struck by the respect and equality; the true partnership of the Gardiners’ marriage. He determined that he and Louisa would achieve that somehow. It was late before they said goodnight to their hosts, and rode home through the freezing night in companionable silence, sitting close inside the carriage, their legs touching under the heavy lap robes.

As Gilbert and Louisa paused to say their goodnights at the top of the stairs, Louisa took a deep breath and looked up at her husband, tentatively putting her hand on his arm. Shyly she whispered, “Gilbert… my love… would you… come to me tonight?”

“My darling,” he said softly to her, took her in his arms. He kissed her lightly, on her eyes, her neck, finally taking her lips passionately. Louisa clung to him and kissed him back, her arms around his neck. He then swept her up and carried her to her chamber. They covered each other’s faces with kisses, whispering endearments, fumbling with buttons and ribbons, finally tumbling into Louisa’s bed as their hands and mouths roamed over each other. They spent the night in each other’s arms, talking and making love.

Later, in the dark, Louisa trailed her fingers down Gilbert’s back. She felt a small bumpy scar over his rib cage. “What happened to give you that scar? Is that from when you fell from the tree?” she asked, recalling a story he had told over Christmas dinner.

Gilbert sighed with pleasure as Louisa’s hands continued their gentle exploration of his body. “No, my darling, that one is from getting caught on a nail in the hayloft when I was twelve. Arthur and I were…..aahhh , Louisa!” he yelped as he twitched away from her hand.

Louisa gasped. “Gilbert! You’re ticklish!” she cried with delight, and made a dive for her husband. He caught her in an embrace, pinning her arms to her sides, and kissed her laughing mouth.

“I love you, Louisa, you do know that don’t you?” he whispered, kissing her again. “I love you too my darling,” she sighed, as she freed her arms only to wrap them tightly around her husband again, their legs entangled, their passion rekindling.

 ***

Clara stepped silently into her mistress’s bed chamber early the next morning to check the fire and lay out her mistress’s clothes. She stopped short when she saw the clothing strewn all over the floor; coat, waistcoat, neckcloth, gown, chemise, shirt, breeches, smallclothes, everything. She turned to the bed and was amazed by the picture she saw there, through a gap in the bed-curtains, of Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, each smiling in their sleep, spooned together under the bedclothes. She gathered up the master’s clothing, and brought them next door to Bixby, Hurst’s valet. He and Clara exchanged them for a dressing gown, which she took back and hung over a chair near the bed. She then hung her mistress’s dressing gown next to it, laid out her mistress’s underclothes, and left the room.

For the rest of their many years together, Louisa and Gilbert Hurst thought of that night as the true beginning of their marriage. Caroline had forgotten them, and they had forgotten her. They happily talked and planned and schemed their future life together.

Charles, even in his unhappiness, noticed the difference, and dreamed more of such a life with Jane. Louisa watched her brother try to pull himself out of his sadness. She and Gilbert entertained and talked to him several times a week in an endeavor to help him, with only limited success. They drew Charles out of his isolation back into their family circle. He dined with them more often, relaxing a bit more each time, but was still uncharacteristically subdued.

***

The fierce cold intensified. Layering two shawls tightly around her shoulders, Elizabeth wondered how they would ever keep the house warm. _At least it isn’t snowing today_. She left her father’s room to fetch another blanket to put over him. She walked down the back stairs to the laundry room just off the pantry, and as she stepped past the breakfast room she heard Lydia’s familiar whine.

“Kitty, I’m so bored! I cannot stand it another minute! Let’s get Emmons to drive us into Meryton,” Lydia whined.

“Lydia, it’s too cold. Even if Mama would let us go, nobody would be out,” replied Kitty.

“We could go to Aunt Phillips’ house! Perhaps some of the officers are there!” Lydia persisted.

“Lydia, you know perfectly well that the entire regiment has been confined to barracks! Maria told us that just last week!” said Kitty firmly.

Lydia was not used to being scolded by her usually silly and compliant sister, and she found it annoying. “Kitty!” cried Lydia, “you have become just as tiresome as Mary or Lizzy! If only I could go to a party or a dance! I hate it here!”

Kitty opened her mouth to answer but stopped, her eyes widening, looking beyond her younger sister. Lydia whirled around to see what had stopped Kitty and was confronted by Elizabeth, standing in the doorway, her eyes on fire in her pale face.

“What makes you think that anyone would wish to see you, Lydia?” she asked in a frosty, hard voice. Lydia stared at Elizabeth. Before she could speak, Elizabeth continued. “Our father is very ill and may die, and you are, as usual, preoccupied with your stupid, selfish concerns. We may soon have no money and no place to live, and you wish only to go to a party and make a fool of yourself in front of the officers. Don’t you know that you are a laughingstock, Lydia? You act like a fool for the attention it brings you. Do you think any of those officers would ever consider courting or marrying a girl like you, with no money, no accomplishments, no education, and the manners of a common trollop? I think you had better be quiet for a change and think about how any of us are going to survive when Papa is gone.”

 Lydia opened her mouth and then shut it again. No one had ever spoken to her like that before. She felt as if she had been slapped, hard. She was afraid of Elizabeth at that moment, with her furious blazing eyes and her icy voice that cut like a knife.  Elizabeth glared at Lydia for a long moment and then with a swirl of skirts was gone. 

Kitty sat frozen, her face pale. “Lizzy is right, Lydia,” she said slowly, when she could finally speak.

“How can you say such a thing, you traitor!” shrieked Lydia.

“It’s not just Lizzy who said that,” said Kitty quietly. “Maria heard some of the officers joke about tricking you into doing any foolish thing they wished.”

Lydia sat, frozen, her mind furiously scrolling through scenes from dances and parties where she had thought she was the life of the party. Had she had really been the dupe of practical jokes? Suddenly she remembered seeing Captain Denny hand Captain Carter a coin at the Netherfield ball when she had gone down the dance shrieking and laughing, wearing a newspaper folded into a hat.  Were they placing wagers on her?

The normally loquacious girl found she couldn’t move or speak. Lydia had never known mortification before, but at that moment it hit her full force. She ran upstairs to the room she shared with Kitty, threw herself on her bed and shattered into tears.

***

Elizabeth, after covering her father with the blanket, had also retired to her room. She sat and stared out the window in astonished horror at the venom she had just unleashed upon Lydia. _Where had that come from?_ She sank her head into her shaking hands for a few minutes and then, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to rise, went to apologize to her sister.

Elizabeth tapped quietly on the door to Kitty and Lydia’s bedchamber. After a moment it was opened by Kitty. “Is Lydia in here? I came to speak with her,” Elizabeth said to Kitty in a low voice. Kitty wordlessly stood aside and motioned for Elizabeth to come in.

She entered the small room to find Lydia lying curled on her side, facing the wall, the occasional tearful shudder racking her. Elizabeth was shocked. She had not seen Lydia cry since she was a tiny girl.

She went over and sat on Lydia’s bed. “Lydia, I am very sorry for my hurtful words. I’m so ashamed! I don’t know what came over me,” she said, tentatively resting her hand on Lydia’s shoulder. Lydia flinched at her touch and turned her face into her pillow. Elizabeth snatched her hand away. It was worse than she had imagined. She turned to look at Kitty, who silently motioned her out to the hallway, closing the door behind them.

“I never expected her to be so angry with me,” Elizabeth said in a low voice to Kitty. “I feel terrible about losing my temper with her.”

Kitty took Elizabeth’s hand. “I think it was your words that have affected her so deeply, more than your anger. They have been corroborated from other sources.”

Elizabeth looked at Kitty inquiringly. Frowning, Kitty returned her gaze. “Maria Lucas found out that many of the officers were mocking Lydia, and goading her into some of her more, um, flamboyant behavior. They made wagers against each other that they could make her do anything they chose.”

 Elizabeth recalled the coin that had passed between the two officers after Lydia’s imitation of Colonel Forster. She gasped. “How cruel! I can’t believe an officer, or a gentleman, would do such a malicious thing! Heartless, cruel men!” Elizabeth said furiously, struggling to keep her voice from rising. She was incredulous that grown men could mock and deceive a mere girl for sport.

The fact was that Lydia should not have been out at all. She was only fifteen, a boisterous child with a womanly figure in grownup clothing, and she had been thrust, through the inattention and laxity of her father and the phenomenally poor judgement of her mother, into situations she was unprepared for.

Elizabeth loved her parents, yet she had always known that they had been careless and neglectful in their duties to their daughters, especially the younger ones. It was as if they had made a halfhearted attempt and then run out of interest in raising children. For probably the thousandth time in her life, Elizabeth wondered if things would have been different if there had been a son.

 “I will try to talk to her again later. We all need each other now more than we ever did. If Papa dies…,” Elizabeth faltered, then swallowed. “If Papa dies, who will take care of us? We need to take care of each other. We can’t depend on Mama, and we can’t expect our uncles and aunts to do everything for us. We must try to plan for our own futures. If our recent experiences are any example, we cannot expect to be rescued.”

***

Most of the time, Darcy could keep his deepening misery at bay until late in the evening. After he and his sister had said their goodnights, he would go to his study to read, fending off sleep, and the visions of Elizabeth Bennet that had begun to rise before him in his dreams. He drank more than his usual single brandy each night, hoping it would help him achieve a dreamless slumber.

Late one evening as he sat at his desk working on accounts, he caught sight of his own reflection in the window.  He was jolted back to another time, another place where he had sat writing by a darkened window.

It was the evening at Netherfield when Elizabeth had joined them in the drawing room after her sister had fallen asleep. She had smilingly declined joining the ongoing card game, and had taken up a book, sitting on a chaise several feet behind the writing table where he was seated. He had feigned busyness over the writing paper, while gazing at her surreptitiously in the dark reflection.

To his secret delight, Elizabeth had begun nodding off over her book. Her head had fallen back against the chair, her lips slightly parted, her creamy bosom rising and falling to her deep breathing. As she shifted slightly in her doze, her gown had shown signs of slipping off one silken shoulder. Darcy had been riveted to the sight of her, unconsciously holding his breath.

At that instant his concentration had been shattered by the raised voice of Miss Bingley, who had intuited that even though Mr. Darcy was seated with his back to Miss Elizabeth, her rival was still casting some sort of spell over him. Miss Bingley had sashayed over to him, rapturously complimented the evenness of his handwriting, and offered to mend his pen. The moment had been destroyed.

Unnoticed by anyone else but Darcy, Miss Elizabeth had quietly startled awake. She had looked about her in embarrassment, a blush rising to her cheeks, as she quickly straightened her dress and set her book on the small table next to the chaise. She bid the others good night and withdrew to her room. The intimacy of the experience had affected him deeply then, and the memory was equally powerful. He poured himself another brandy and drank it in one gulp, hoping it would put him out quickly.

Alone in his enormous bed, he was relieved to feel himself drifting off.  His slumber deepened, images swirling in his brain. Then he was again in the drawing room at Netherfield.

This time however, _he looked up from his writing to see that Elizabeth was still dozing on the chaise, her book slipping from her hands. Her gown had slipped off her shoulder and was lowered considerably over her bosom. Her curls had partially broken free from her hairpins and were falling down over her bare shoulder. The Bingleys and Hursts had vanished, and he and Elizabeth were alone in the room. He rose from his chair and in a few strides was beside her, seating himself next to her on the chaise. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, smiling sleepily. Her arms reached out for him as she sighed “Fitzwilliam.” He bent his head to hers, kissing her lips, then trailing small kisses down her neck and along her collarbone, his hand moving up from her waist to cup_... in the fireplace, a burning lump of coal exploded like gunshot. Suddenly he was awake, sitting upright, sweating and breathing hard, alone in his bed at Pemberley, almost in pain from his arousal. 

As the weeks wore on, other fantasies began to infiltrate his dreams; some rooted in memory, others originating in his owned fevered imagination. Finding that the dreams were more overwhelming and sensual in his bedchamber, he began to sleep in his study.

***

Jane and Elizabeth stood looking out the mud room door, bundled up to the point where only their eyes showed from underneath layers of cloaks, old coats, and scarves. “You really needn’t come out, Jane. What use is it that we should both freeze?” Elizabeth’s muffled voice came from behind a huge woolen scarf obscuring most of her face.

“You’ve been dealing with the farm business by yourself for long enough, Lizzy. Your trips to the barn are exhausting for you. Even if we find that I am useless as a farm laborer, I can at least make sure you get back to the house safe and sound.” Jane’s eyes crinkled at her sister.

“All right, you have me convinced, but I will excuse you if you wisely choose never to do it again,” said Elizabeth dryly. She opened the door, and the two girls stepped out into the cold. After struggling through the bitter wind and drifting snow, the great barn was a welcome sight. Elizabeth put all her weight against the thick wooden door and shoved. The two girls stepped into the barn, their eyes adjusting to the dim light and their minds adjusting to the sight before them.

Lydia, clad in a pair of their father’s discarded breeches, filthy mud boots and a ragged barn coat, was standing atop a haystack, wielding a large pitchfork, throwing hay into a cattle pen. Their groom, Emmons, his gray, grizzled head looking up at her, was directing her aim. They both turned to look at Jane and Elizabeth, who were standing as if paralyzed in the doorway.

“Miss Elizabeth!” scolded the old man. “Close the door, if you please! ‘Tis cold as a witch’s ti… it’s too cold in here already!”

Jane quickly turned, and with an effort pushed the heavy door shut. Elizabeth hadn’t budged, still trying to make sense of the picture before her.

Lydia, at not quite sixteen, was already the tallest of the Bennet sisters, and still growing. She was at least half a head taller than Elizabeth, her figure Junoesque. She was the most robust, able to dance vigorous country dances all night without tiring in the least. She and Jane were the two blondes in the family, although while Jane’s deep gold hair fell in long waves, Lydia’s fell in silvery corkscrews. Elizabeth contemplated her youngest sister dressed as a farmhand and talking animatedly to Jane and Emmons, perversely grateful that the weather had kept them from socializing. She had a peculiar sense that a disaster had been averted.

“Lizzy!” said Lydia excitedly, as she effortlessly threw another huge forkful of hay over the side, “we have already finished feeding the horses and bedding the cattle. We moved the chickens into the barn as well, so they will be a little warmer than in the coop.”

Elizabeth finally found her voice. “Lydia!” she gasped. “You are an Amazon!”

Lydia paused, the pitchfork stilled over her head. “A what?” she said, perplexed.

“Miss Lydia is a force of nature, and no mistake,” commented Emmons with satisfaction. “She can carry two buckets of oats at once, instead of just one,” he continued, eyeing one of the footmen pointedly as he struggled by with a single bucket. “We got most of our work done today in half the time.” He rolled his eyes. “She’s a chatterbox, though. She needs to learn to keep her mouth shut.”

Lydia tossed the pitchfork down and slid quickly down the haystack on her bottom. “And,” harrumphed Emmons, “I don’t like the idea of young ladies wearing breeches. But it is more practical, for now.”

“I will do my share of the work, Lizzy,” said Lydia, walking towards her older sisters. She paused, searching for the words. “I was upset yesterday,” she said tentatively, her eyes beginning to moisten once more. Jane stepped to her side and put her arm around her shoulders, murmuring comfortingly. In a trembling voice, Lydia continued. “I was angry, and so embarrassed. And I understand that it was my own fault.” She sniffled. “I think I’m glad we are snowed in. I don’t want to go to Meryton and feel people looking at me and thinking me a fool!” Her tears came again, leaving crooked little trails in the dirt and dust on her face.

Emmons growled uncomfortably. “That will be all for today, Miss Lydia. I will leave a message at the house if I need more help. You ladies should get back inside where it is warm.” He turned and walked toward the horse stalls.

Minutes later all three girls burst through the back door, stomping their feet and shaking the snow off their garments in the mud room. Lydia went to change and wash her face, and Jane and Elizabeth sat down at the breakfast table for a momentary rest. Mary and Kitty came downstairs to see what the commotion was about, and Jane described the scene in the barn to them. Lydia rejoined them, having changed to a plain morning dress and shawl.

“How are Papa and Mama?” Jane asked. “Papa is asleep,” said Kitty. “I was just reading to him. Mama is looking at ball gown patterns with Mrs. Hill. Ever practical as usual,” she said wryly.

Lydia had her elbows on the table and was resting her chin on one hand. “Lizzy,” she said thoughtfully, “What is an Amazon? Out in the barn you said I was an Amazon.”

Coloring slightly, Elizabeth considered her words, but it was Mary who supplied the information. “The Amazons were a mythical race of female warriors,” she said quietly. “They are found in stories from Greek mythology. They were strong and fierce and independent of all men. They had their own society with only females, and were fiercely warlike. It has been said that they burned off one of their breasts, so they could shoot their arrows more efficiently.”

“Ewwww!” cried Kitty and Lydia, crossing their arms over their chests.

“I quite like being compared to an Amazon,” reflected Lydia a moment later. “Except for the part about their bosoms.”

“Well, Lydia, you can be a farm Amazon,” said Mary gravely, her face perfectly solemn. “I suspect they were allowed to keep both.”

The sisters dispersed to their duties, but Elizabeth reached out to touch Mary’s arm before she could rise. “Mary,” said Elizabeth, ”I had no idea that you enjoyed mythology.” She had only ever observed her sanctimonious sister reading sermons, improving tracts for young ladies, and the Bible.

Mary looked at Elizabeth with a raised eyebrow. “I suspect that my reading interests have been wider than you think, Lizzy.”

 Elizabeth blushed fiercely, having been caught out in her erroneous judgement.

“But only _slightly_ wider,” Mary admitted. She paused thoughtfully. “We are in a troubled time, Lizzy. We are all, I think, becoming aware of how difficult our lives will be without Papa. It is clear to me that we sisters need to be kinder to one another, and perhaps try to know each other as friends. We stand a better chance of surviving well if we work together.” She looked at Elizabeth at little sheepishly. “Perhaps in my case, I can be a little less… judgmental, and a little more charitable. Suffice to say, I am working on it.”

Elizabeth stared at Mary, and then reached over and squeezed her hand. “I will also try to be less judgmental, Mary. I have been much taken lately with exactly how faulty my impressions of others often are. _Usually_ are, I fear.” She sighed, feeling a wave of self-recrimination. “I was very much in the wrong about Lydia, for example.”

Jane returned to the breakfast room, and sat down with them, as Mary replied, “I think you have done wonderfully with Lydia. Look at how proud of herself she is today. We have to remember that she is very young.”

Elizabeth frowned, her eyes downcast. “Did Kitty tell you what Maria Lucas said? That some of the officers were placing wagers on what sort of ridiculous escapades they could talk Lydia into? She is so humiliated, Mary! After I thought about it I realized that it wasn’t completely her fault. She should of course have understood that wild behavior is never acceptable, but she also should never have been out! She is an immature child with an excess of energy and high spirits.”

“I recall another little girl with an excess of energy and high spirits,” Jane said with an arched brow, joining the discussion. “But that little girl had her father to take her in hand and help her focus and develop her lively mind and talents, not to mention her prodigious energy.”

Elizabeth looked up, only to find both Jane and Mary looking at her. Understanding suddenly dawned, and she sat perfectly still, thunderstruck.

She could have been Lydia, she realized. Or Lydia could have been her. _There but for the grace of God go I_. Lydia had needed, _still_ needed, strong parental guidance and discipline, and all she had ever received was talk of parties, gowns, and officers. _Both_ her youngest sisters needed guidance, she realized, although Kitty had discovered that fact herself through the unlikely example of Mrs. Hurst.

Elizabeth didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. Mistaken prejudices and poor judgment indeed!

“We will work together, Lizzy,” said Mary once more.

”And we will get through this dark time somehow,” added Jane. “This too shall pass.”


	4. "The divine Caroline has the hide of a rhino"

 

Her self-assurance growing, Louisa decided to make her own morning visits, to see _her_ friends instead of using the time to dance attendance on persons Caroline had deemed necessary to know.

She ordered a footman to accompany her the following morning, but to her surprise, it was Gilbert who stood waiting by the door. Bundled up against the cold, they visited some neighbors from Northhamptonshire, and then proceeded to leave cards at the homes of several old school friends. As the morning waned, they stopped to leave a card at the home one of Louisa’s favorite classmates, Lady Susan Ellerby.

To Louisa’s delight, Susan was home. Susan’s surprise and pleasure at seeing Louisa, and what’s more, seeing Louisa without Caroline, was heartfelt, and Hurst was charmed by her effervescence and sense of humor. He took great pleasure in watching his wife laugh and talk over old times with her friend.

Susan had married a baronet and lived quite happily most of the year in Shropshire. She and her husband had not intended to spend the winter in town.  The violent weather had forced them to put off the return to their estate.

After visiting for almost an hour, Lady Susan said, “Louisa, does your sister still live with you? I believe I have heard that she is in town this season.”

_Oh, dear! I wonder what she has heard._

Louisa answered Susan’s question honestly. “Caroline is in town, and arrived with us from Hertfordshire at the end of November. After we had been here almost a fortnight, she was invited to visit Baroness Riverton at her home.” Louisa heard Susan’s sharp intake of breath. “She began socializing so much with the Baroness and her set that she was invited to stay at Riverton House for the rest of the season.”

 Susan stared at her for a long moment and then exclaimed, “Louisa, you are roasting me! Lady Sophronia Riverton would no more have Caroline as a houseguest than she would marry a tavern keeper!”

Hurst barked out a laugh. Louisa tried to smother a chuckle, and almost succeeded. “I have to admit I agree! I would not believe it myself if my husband and I hadn’t both witnessed the Baroness inviting her.”

Susan looked at Hurst and he nodded. “Lady Susan, Louisa and I have a suspicion that the Baroness has ulterior motives; that is, by her presence Caroline is serving some purpose for her. Try as we may, we cannot puzzle out a reason,” he said. “We assume she is happy living with the Baroness. She never answers the notes Louisa has sent her inviting her to visit, so we believe that she is content there.”

Louisa added, “To be truthful, Susan, it is quite pleasant not having her with us. I know how dreadful that sounds,” she said apologetically.

Lady Susan looked at her wryly, raising one eyebrow. “Louisa, you do not have to apologize for your sentiments. Remember that I have known Caroline as long as I have known you. I completely understand.”

Settling back in her chair, Lady Susan speculated at the Baroness’ motives.  “Now _there’s_ a mystery. Lady Sophronia was certainly not kind to Caroline in school. Although, as I think about it, Louisa, she is not _habitually_ unkind. She may be inclined to superiority and the mockery of others, but I have never heard of her acting with malice. She _is_ very conscious of her rank. She is from a noble family, you know. Her father had rather a sinister reputation, though. He was a beast and a bully, not least of all to his wife. It has even been rumored that he beat Lady Sophronia’s mother.”

Louisa gasped in horror. “Oh, my God! Do you think she witnessed this as a child?”

“I don’t know. She never speaks of her parents, _never_. She was very young when her mother died under mysterious circumstances, and her mother’s aunt, Lady Augusta Havering, very brazenly went to the estate and stole Sophronia away to live with her in London. She was raised by Lady Havering and I don’t know that she ever saw her father again.”

Lady Susan unconsciously chewed her lower lip, deep in thought. Louisa smiled fondly at her,  remembering that same habit when as girls they had struggled through difficult lessons.

“Lady Augusta was a widow, very wealthy and completely independent. She was a cousin of my father’s.” She smiled slyly at Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. “In case you were wondering how I came into the possession all of this gossip! Anyway, as a young woman, Lady Augusta had married a much older man but after a few years of marriage, her husband died and left her a large fortune. Only the family seat was entailed to his cousin. The family howled but there was nothing to be done. Apparently she had no desire for children of her own. It is said that she had love affairs even before her husband died.”

“She raised Lady Sophronia to be just as independent. In fact, among our family it is believed that she counseled her great-niece to marry an older man, just as she had herself. After Sophronia married Baron Riverton, my father took that as a validation of the rumor.”

Susan looked at Louisa archly. “I can’t say that I agree with him. Lady Havering died when Sophronia was only sixteen and left her entire fortune to her. She didn’t need to marry for money, or marry at all.  The baron had no need to marry either. _And”,_ she added _,_ “Baron Riverton was Lady Havering’s longtime lover. He practically lived with her as Sophronia was growing up. He and Sophronia positively dote on each other, but it is platonic. Sophronia’s first season put was difficult, to put it mildly. She was besieged and there were several attempts to compromise her. I think he married her to protect her from fortune hunters.”

Hurst said thoughtfully, “It still seems very strange then, that a wealthy, titled woman like Baroness Riverton would invite my sister-in-law, whom we know her to have disliked in the past, to be her houseguest. Of what possible benefit could that be to her?”

Lady Susan shook her head. “I don’t know… I really cannot see… unless…”

“What?” asked both the Hursts in unison.

Lady Susan looked at her guests, her eyes speculative. “Rumor has it that Lady Sophronia has taken a lover over the last two seasons. This is not unusual among the ton, we all know that. But Lady Sophronia inherited what was once the Havering fortune. There are some in that family who will never forget or forgive that, and like to cause trouble for her. Last season some vicious gossip caused a lot of troublesome talk, even causing a few highly placed persons to cut the Baroness. Lady Sophronia likes to live her own life, but she likes to do it quietly.  Perhaps by having Caroline staying with her and being escorted by the gentlemen of her circle, she is trying to throw the rumormongers off her trail.”

“Why would she choose Caroline?” asked Hurst.

“I can answer that,” said Louisa. “Caroline is so pleased to be living among the highest ranks of society, she won’t ask any questions.”

“Did you receive an invitation to the Markham’s ball, Louisa? I would wager Caroline will be there, if you wish to see her. The Markhams are friends with Lady Sophronia,” said Susan.

“Yes, we did. I was completely taken by surprise, until Gilbert told me they are some connection on his mother’s side. Perhaps we should go…” Louisa added thoughtfully.

After more conjecture and theorizing, the Hursts took their leave of Lady Susan, happily planning future visits and looking forward to their introduction to her husband, Sir Edmund.

***

Jane and Elizabeth sat with their father in his bedchamber. He was propped up on pillows, his eyes half closed, listening to Lizzy read. It was late in the evening, and snow was again falling outside. They could no longer ignore the fact that their father was failing. Lizzy looked at her father and saw that he was in a deep sleep. Kitty, in her nightclothes, peeped around the door. “I’ll sit with Papa,” she whispered to her sisters, “You should both go to bed.” Elizabeth and Jane rose and each embraced Kitty in turns. Then they silently left the room, going down the hall to the bedchamber they had shared since they were little girls.

“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane whispered sadly. They sat together on Jane’s bed, their arms around each other, silently pondering the future. What on earth would become of them? Mr. Bingley floated through Jane’s thoughts, and she pushed him away, as she always did. How unseemly to be thinking of a man who had abandoned her without a thought, when she should be thinking about her own dear father who was so ill? When her family’s future was so in doubt? But in her dreams, her white knight always arrived in the smiling and amiable form of Charles Bingley.

Elizabeth was struggling with similar escapist thoughts. She, however, was even more shocked at her wayward inner fantasies than Jane. Elizabeth was also aware that their lives were soon going to change, and not for the better. She had tried to push those thoughts out of her mind, wishing only to focus on what were sure to be the last days and weeks to be with her dear father. She wanted to spend every minute with him, and burn each memory into her mind so she would have part of him forever. Still, deep in her heart, she desperately needed to be comforted and cared for. To her utter mortification, when she most keenly needed consolation, those thoughts were always accompanied by none other than Mr. Darcy! Elizabeth was baffled and distressed that he should have taken up residence in even the smallest corner of her mind.

***

The drawing room project commenced. Mrs. Hurst and Mrs. Gardiner met one morning when Mr. Hurst had business to discuss, and were escorted to the warehouse by their husbands. “This is our most recent shipment,” said Mr. Gardiner, grinning, “and you ladies have first crack at it! We have some silks from France, and laces from Belgium. We have also acquired some fixtures and furnishings from what were some of the loveliest chateaus in France before the recent troubles. I have asked Wilkins here to assist you ladies in looking over whatever takes your fancy. There are some large display tables over there where you can lay out lengths of fabric. Hurst, shall we proceed to our meeting?” Gilbert winked at his wife and turned to follow Mr. Gardiner. The two gentlemen left to meet Henderson and Haggerston in Gardiner’s office.

Mrs. Gardiner turned to Louisa, “Oh won’t this be fun, Mrs. Hurst?” she said, with a mischievous twinkle. Louisa was grinning from ear to ear. “Yes indeed, Mrs. Gardiner!” she laughed, “but how are we to even begin!” she said, looking around her at the enormous warehouse.

Mrs. Gardiner tilted her head to one side, her eyes scanning the vast space. “Let’s first think about your drawing room. Do you have an idea of what color scheme you would like? What types of fabric you would employ?”

Louisa pulled several folded sheets of paper from her reticule. “I have made some notes on color schemes, and I had one of our footmen measure the windows, so I guess we can begin there.”

The two ladies sat down at one of the large tables and looked over Louisa’s notes. “Wilkins, I think we are ready to begin,” called Mrs. Gardiner. “At your service, Ma’am,” he smiled, and began prying open the large wooden packing cases. They spent the next few hours looking over fabrics in blues and greens and pale golds.

Mrs. Gardiner encouraged Louisa to keep close track of expenses, and she agreed. She was very excited about the redecoration, but was also trying to be economical. She certainly didn’t want to spend their entire dividend. She would have one or two new pieces of furniture, but mostly would have the old furniture repaired or recovered.

***

While the ladies were making Wilkins run up and down the warehouse floor, Hurst and Gardiner sat in the meeting room. Gardiner outlined to the other gentlemen his plans for the next few voyages of the trading sloops. He described some of the ports of call and what they expected to be able to purchase in these places.

Hurst related that his brother-in-law had also expressed an interest in investing, and possibly another friend of theirs whom Gardiner had met at the theater back in December. “My brother is here in town for the winter, but our friend is at his estate in Derbyshire, and from what I understand, they are completely snowed under.”

“Yes, it has been a hard winter, but I believe we have been relatively fortunate here in town,” answered Gardiner, “perhaps we can set up a meeting for them when the weather is more temperate. I need to do some traveling this week, if the roads are passable, to see my brother who is still ailing.’ He frowned, “My sister’s husband is an educated gentleman, but never sensible in running his affairs. My sister, I deeply regret, is no more practical than a child. I need to see what, if anything, I can do to assist the family.”

“I am very sorry, Gardiner,” sympathized Hurst, “I sincerely wish you well with that. My father was capricious and unstable; never able to handle his financial affairs with any sense. When my mother was alive, she kept him steady. When she died, his handling of the family finances was irresponsible, to say the least. He almost lost the family seat before he died. It was my maternal grandfather who stepped in and kept the family from losing everything. My brother and I have been trying to rebuild since we came of age. I truly empathize with you.”

***

Lady Sophronia had led the ladies to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen at the table. It had been an intimate evening, with just a dozen or so friends gathered together. Certainly enjoyable enough, but with Miss Bingley in constant attendance, this close-knit circle of friends could not truly relax together as they had used to do. Now that the ladies and gentlemen had separated, the men sat together smoking their cigars and sipping their brandy, companionably quiet.

At length, Wareham blew a smoke ring and quipped, “How many feathers do you fellows think Miss Bingley will wear in her hair at the Markham’s ball?”

Jonathan Mortimer grinned. ”I’ll put my money on three feathers!” He reached into his pocket and plunked down a guinea on the table.

“Only three?” cried Broughton in mock horror. “I say five feathers!” and he too put his money on the table.

“Four,” said Wareham, adding his money to the small but growing pile of coins.

“None,” said Lord Drayton, as he reached into his pocket for his money.

“None?” said Norling. “You’re joking, man!”

“I say none,” repeated Drayton. “I think she’ll wear that ridiculous headdress affair with the dead bird and dangling fruit.” The gentlemen roared.

“Oh, lord, I had forgotten about that one!” conceded Broughton, “although I think the proper term is _stuffed_ bird.”

Suddenly five guineas landed on the table. Startled, the gentlemen turned around to see Baron Riverton standing next to them, shakily leaning on his cane. He was grinning widely. “I say seven feathers!” and threw back his head and cackled uproariously. The gentlemen all laughed, and a few more wagers were placed. “Gentlemen, shall we join the ladies?” said the Baron, and they all rose and filed out of the room, the Baron slapping Broughton on the back as they proceeded through the door.                                                                                                    

***

The snow pelted down so thick and fast they could hear it hitting the window panes. Louisa was curled up on Gilbert’s lap in front of the fire, her head nestled against his shoulder, her arms around his neck. Charles had dined with them and had just left for Darcy House. Louisa had been sorry to see him ride off alone into the windy, frigid night. “Charles is so lonely, Gilbert,” she said pensively.

“Yes, I agree. I’ve been thinking about him too, Louisa,” replied her husband. “I believe he is still heartbroken over Miss Bennet.”  Louisa sat up straight and looked intently into her husband’s face, her arms still encircling his neck. “You do? I think so, too! Gilbert, do you think that Miss Bennet had feelings for Charles?”

Gilbert tightened his hold around Louisa’s waist. “When I observed them at the ball at Netherfield, I felt that they both were falling in love. I never agreed with Caroline or Darcy about Miss Bennet’s feelings. In fact, back in December, I told Charles that he should listen to his own heart.  He should at least seek out Miss Bennet and find out for himself. Now, it is indeed unfortunate that he may have to wait for spring to travel to Hertfordshire.”

Louisa snuggled more closely against her husband’s chest. “I know that Caroline’s only concern was keeping Charles away from Miss Bennet. She has no concern for his feelings, nor anyone’s for that matter. Caroline wants him to court Miss Darcy, but she isn’t even out. Not to mention, neither of them has the slightest interest in one another, even though they have long been acquainted.”

“Caroline cares only for status,” agreed Gilbert. “As does Darcy. Although, I must say Darcy has always been a good friend to Charles, despite the differences in rank. He may have truly been concerned that Miss Bennet did not return Charles’ feelings. Though, frankly my dear, I wonder if Darcy would even recognize love if he saw it.”

“Gilbert, in all fairness to Mr. Darcy, Miss Bennet was not at all demonstrative. I too, believe that she was falling in love with Charles, but the signs were very subtle. I liked her very much. I would like my brother to be happy, and I would like to have had Miss Bennet in the family, no matter what Caroline or Mr. Darcy had to say about it,” Louisa again lowered her head against his shoulder. “In fact, I think Mr. Darcy was in some danger of falling for Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He certainly could not take his eyes off her.”

“You saw it, too? I thought perhaps I was imagining things.” Gilbert laughed. “He didn’t know which way to turn, did he? He was so ill at ease in her presence but he couldn’t stay away from her either. Did you see him blush when they were dancing? I think Miss Elizabeth could lead our taciturn friend on a merry chase!”

“Oh, he would never stoop to court Miss Elizabeth! Mr. Darcy will always put his position in society above his heart. He is such a good man, but so very proud.” She shook her head in resignation. “Yet… he values Charles as a close friend. You know, Gilbert, even though Caroline would never admit it, for much of society, the Bingleys would not be considered gentlefolk, and the Bennets would.”

“I believe Darcy’s pride will cause him to lead a lonely life,” mused Gilbert. “It’s rather sad, actually. I think I feel sorry for him.”

Louisa laid her head back on her husband’s shoulder. “So do I.”

The next time Louisa saw Charles, she insisted he leave Darcy House and move in with them. Caroline was staying with the baroness, and Louisa did not expect to see her anytime soon. She wanted to keep an eye on her brother.

***

In the early morning hours, oblivious to the wind howling outside, Darcy replayed the evening of the ball at Netherfield for the thousandth time in his mind. Elizabeth had looked so beautiful, her face glowing with anticipation. They had verbally sparred during their dance, and he had been annoyed with her, but not so upset that he didn’t noticed the pink flush of her skin and the fire in her eyes. Unable to help himself, he had no sooner seen the blush moving up her neck than a vision of a rosy flush rising all over her slender body had appeared unbidden in his mind as they danced. He had immediately felt scarlet heat rising to his own face.

The behavior of her family had made him wince. Her mother’s noisy effusions over Bingley and Miss Bennet, the wild behavior of the two youngest sisters; Mr. Bennet’s refusal to exert himself to put a stop to it, had humiliated Elizabeth. He had watched the emotions play over her face. That she could be so mortified by her family yet remain so caring of them was a credit to her. Caroline Bingley had also been inexcusably rude to Elizabeth during their time at Netherfield, but she had responded with grace and even levity. Her wit and resourcefulness, curiosity and intelligence, her fresh outlook and sense of humor, her disinterest in conforming to missish stereotype made him realize how rare she truly was.

Wondering how he himself would have reacted in such a situation, he recollected the evening at the theater before he had left London. The mortification of sitting there with Miss Bingley still discomposed him, and he shuddered. Lady Catherine had also caused him considerable embarrassment over the years. He passed his hand over his face.

There were plenty of ill-mannered and uncouth people in the ton, and there were businessmen who were well-educated and genteel. That elegant couple from the theater that Hurst had introduced, the Gardiners, for example.  They had been most impressive, and he had already decided to inquire into investing with Mr. Gardiner when he got back to town. Darcy heaved a deep sigh. But could he court Miss Elizabeth Bennet and present her to his family and peers? When he asked himself that question, the answer always came back: No.

***

Even as Darcy meditated on his heart’s desire, Elizabeth dozed in the chaise in her father’s chamber, wrapped snugly in a goose down comforter. It was almost dawn, and the overcast sky outside the windows began slowly to lighten. She settled deeper into the cushions of the big old chaise, half dreaming and half waking. 

Her dream of having a cosy chat with Charlotte at Lucas Lodge was surreally interrupted by Mr. Darcy suddenly materializing on the worn sofa in the parlor there. He was gazing at her with the familiar intensity he had throughout his stay in Hertfordshire. 

Startled awake, Elizabeth’s eyes flew open. With a gasp she wondered if Charlotte and Aunt Gardiner might have been correct. Could Mr. Darcy have formed a tendre for her? Her hard feelings toward him had mellowed slightly once she realized what kind of a person George Wickham truly was. Still, she wished he wouldn’t appear in her dreams. The hard reality of her situation made her push thoughts of him away again. Would a man of such consequence and pride ever have anything more to do with an impoverished country girl? The answer came back: No.

***

Even with Mr. Gardiner out of town, the ladies made more visits to the warehouses. On a cold afternoon, they watched as Wilkins pulled a set of shining brass curtain rods out of a long wooden crate. “I think those would fit the windows nicely, Mrs. Gardiner,” observed Louisa. There was no answer. Louisa turned to find her friend deep in thought. “Mrs. Gardiner?” said Louisa gently.

“Oh! I am sorry, Mrs. Hurst. I confess I am abstracted. My husband was planning to return home today. He has been at our brother’s estate for a few days. It is so cold, and the last time he traveled there a snow squall came up and the roads drifted shut. He was forced to take shelter in a stable! I won’t be easy until I see him safe at home!”

”Your brother who was taken ill?” asked Louisa. ”Is he any better?”

“I wish I could say that we are optimistic about his recovery, but there is little hope. At this point, Mr. Gardiner is trying to help him make the best of a dreadful situation. Our brother has unmarried daughters with no dowries, and his estate is entailed to a distant relative.”

“Oh dear! Those poor girls! None of them are married? Are there no prospective husbands for them?” cried Louisa.

“The eldest girl had formed an attachment to a gentleman in the autumn, but it came to nothing. The elder daughters have decided to seek employment, but my husband feels that decision may be premature.” Mrs. Gardiner sighed deeply and then offered a weak smile to her friend. “Thank you for listening, Mrs. Hurst. It helps a bit to speak of it.”

“Pray, call me Louisa,” that lady said, placing a gentle hand on Mrs. Gardiner’s arm.

“Thank you, dear. And you must call me Madeline.” Mrs. Gardiner took a deep breath and spoke briskly, ”Now, Louisa, were you planning to use the blue silk moire for the draperies?”

***

After further discussion, Madeline recommended a firm of decorators, and the process was begun. Gilbert and Charles were banned from the drawing room for the duration, and the three of them spent cozy evenings by the fire in the parlor instead.

The subject of Caroline came up during one discussion, and Louisa shared Lady Susan’s ideas with her brother. “You know, Charles, I have sent several notes to Riverton House for Caroline. I invited her to spend Christmas with us! I have never received the favor of a reply, not once! I can only assume that she is enjoying herself in lofty company, and doesn’t wish to be reminded that she has a family!”

Charles groaned. “Louisa, I have seen Caroline’s bills and I know for a fact that she is enjoying herself!”

Hurst laughed. “Well, Bingley, if exorbitant bills are any indication that Caroline is happy living away from home, I would be most pleased to pay half.” 

***

Mary Bennet awoke to the sound of a gentle tapping at the door. She had been sleeping on the chaise in her father’s chamber, having sent Jane off to bed several hours before. Her father had slept soundly through the night and Mary was grateful. Lydia quietly opened the door and saw that Mary was awake. She grinned at her sister and whispered, “Mary, you can go off duty for a while. Mama has just had her breakfast so I can sit with Papa.”

Mary swung her feet to the floor and stretched, her long thick braid swinging behind her. “Thank you, Lydia. Papa is sleeping deeply for now,” she whispered back. She put on her dressing gown and slippers and padded quietly from the room and headed toward her own tiny bedchamber. Yawning, she met Jane and Kitty on her way to her room.

“Are you getting dressed now Mary, or are you going to get some more sleep?” asked Jane.

“Papa slept well last night, so I also was able to rest. I’ll just get dressed for the day now,” said Mary.

Kitty and Jane exchanged a quick glance. “Would you like some assistance with your hair, Mary?” asked Kitty.

“My hair?” Mary asked, her hand reflexively rising to her head. She looked at Kitty curiously. “Thank you, Kitty, but I have been putting my own hair up for years. Why on earth would I need help with my hair?”

Jane smiled at her. “Mary, Kitty and I have been wondering if you would like to try something different with your hair.”

Mary’s face hardened defensively. “I think my usual hair style is sufficient, thank you,” she replied, and turned again toward her room. Jane put her hand on Mary’s arm to stop her.

“Mary,” she said gently, “We mean no criticism of the way you wear your hair. We’ve just noticed that when your hair is worn slightly more loose, it is very flattering to you. It’s really very pretty, dearest.”

Mary was stunned. She couldn’t remember when anyone had last called her pretty. Had anyone _ever_ called her pretty?

She looked at Jane and Kitty and saw only sincerity in their faces. “All right,” she said cautiously. “Is there time for this?”

“Of course, there is!” exclaimed Kitty. “Papa is asleep and Mama is talking to Hill.” The three girls squeezed into Mary’s tiny corner room. Mary took out her braid, and her sisters set to work.

Minutes later, Mary stared at herself in the looking glass. Jane and Kitty had swirled and pinned her hair into a simple but elegant style, looser and more in vogue than she had worn it before, but still modest. The gentle wave in her light brown hair was shown to good advantage, and it was definitely flattering. A tentative smile spread across Mary’s face. “I like it,” she said, flushing slightly pink with pleasure.

“Let’s show Lizzy,” said Kitty, as she and Jane propelled Mary back down the hall toward the room Lizzy shared with Jane. Lizzy was standing just outside the open door to their father’s room, talking quietly to Lydia when they approached. They turned to look at their now blushing sister.

“Mary!” said Lydia, “How nice you look! Your hair looks so pretty that way!”

Lizzy smiled. “You look lovely, Mary. That style brings out your eyes.”

Their father’s voice came from inside the room. “Come in here, Mary, my child. I must see what you girls are all clucking about!” Mary sheepishly stepped into his room, ducking her head and looking at her father out of the corners of her eyes. He smiled at her. “You look very pretty, my dear. It does suit you nicely. Well, my girls, if any young men come for Mary, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.”

Mary’s cheeks were by then scarlet, but she smiled shyly as her sisters spun her around one more time, and made her way back to her room to get dressed for the day. She again sat down before her mirror, turning her head from side to side and studying her face in self-appraisal. No, no miracles had occurred. She was still very plain Mary. But her eyes seemed bigger and her complexion was bright. She smiled, and quite liked what she saw. Then she rose to prepare for the day.

***

Darcy stood up slowly and stretched. The weather had been too foul that day to spend more than a few minutes outdoors. He had been kneeling next to a wooden chest, searching the storage room near his steward’s office for old estate records. Even though he and his steward had made sure that all the residents of Pemberley estate wanted for nothing, he wished to know if there had ever been a similar winter recorded, and what previous masters of Pemberley had done. He bent over and pulled out some dusty logbooks, over thirty years old. He recognized the handwriting of old Mr. Wickham, his father’s steward.

It struck him like a thunder bolt. When he had left Netherfield, he had unthinkingly left the field open to that scoundrel, George Wickham!

“Good God!” he shuddered in horror and revulsion. Miss Elizabeth had already been fooled into thinking Wickham a gentleman when last he had seen her. His imagination reeled at the thought of what damage might have been done since then. The idea that Wickham had somehow succeeded in getting his filthy hands on Elizabeth nauseated him.

He sat down heavily on the floor, put his head in his hands and sent up a fervent prayer that she would be safe. Could an intelligent woman like Elizabeth truly believe that lying fiend for any length of time? He hoped that she had seen through to Wickham’s true character, and was safe from him, but the thought left him hollow inside. Unable to contemplate reading through any more records, he threw the logbooks back in the chest and slammed the lid shut.

***

Mr. Darcy needn’t have worried. George Wickham, having been mostly confined to barracks by the weather, had long since worn out his welcome among his fellow officers. At such close quarters, his brand of smooth charm and counterfeit nobility quickly wore thin. He had debts among the tradesmen of the town, and debts of honor to almost all of his comrades-in-arms. His excuses were no longer tolerated, not only among the militia but among the citizens of Meryton. His attempted betrothal to Miss King had come to nothing, and the stupid girl’s uncle had managed to remove her from the town. He was becoming bored, desperate and reckless.

Wickham, his head blurry from the whisky, eased out a side door when he was sure no one was looking. In the evening gloom he found shelter in a small niche between the main barracks and the cookhouse. He pulled up his collar against the cold and reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigar he had filched from his commanding officer’s personal supply. Cupping a hand around the trembling flame, he lit the cigar and took a deep draw. He leaned his head against the side of the barracks and sulked.

Military life was not turning out as he had hoped. It had begun well, he was every inch the dashing officer. The ladies of Meryton had been completely charmed by him. He’d been invited to parties, musicales, even a ball. Unfortunately, he had been unable to attend. Damn, damn, Darcy, he turned up to ruin Wickham’s plans every time! What were the chances!

And the yokels he, George Wickham, was forced to associate with! Who did they think they were, accusing him of cheating! Never mind that he had been. He needed the blunt. Even Denny wouldn’t support him anymore. They were all losers anyway. Blearily, he considered his options. He had to get out of this dead-end backwater. Even if the weather weren’t so bad, he couldn’t go to Pemberley. It was closed to him now. Georgiana had stupidly informed Darcy of their plans, and the life he deserved had been snatched away from him. He thought of Gertie Younge. How could he get to London?

Hunched against the wall, staring bitterly into the dark, his eyes detected some movement. A lantern, moving near the inn. A woman, and she appeared to be alone. He took a last draw on the cigar, and threw the butt on the ground. Pulling his coat more tightly around him, he pushed away from the wall and headed toward the stables behind the inn. The day might not be a total loss after all.

***

On their last visit to the warehouse, Mr. Gardiner showed the ladies a large packing crate. Again, Wilkins pried the top open and Louisa and Madeline peered in. Brushing aside the wood shavings it had been packed in, Wilkins reached in and carefully pulled out a delicate gilt chandelier with glass hurricanes where tiny candles would glow, and dozens of cut glass prisms dangling. “Oh, how lovely!” gasped Louisa. “It was from a chateau in the Loire valley,” said Mr. Gardiner, “which was nearly burnt to the ground during their revolution. Amazingly, this was still intact.” Louisa stood gazing at it with wide eyes. “I would like very much to use it!” she said, but then made a face, “but I’ll have to see if it will fit in with my budget.”

“We’ll make it fit,” smiled Mr. Gardiner.

***

The night air was so cold it was painful to even draw breath, but the glittering ball at the magnificent home of the Markhams was proceeding as planned. The line of carriages waiting to discharge their passengers at the door clogged the street. .

Jonathan Mortimer had arrived earlier than his friends and was mingling with the crowd when he was spied Baroness Riverton. “Good evening to you, my lady,” he said, bowing.  He straightened and smirked conspiratorially at her. “So, how many feathers this time?” Lady Sophronia grinned. “See for yourself.” She gestured with her head toward the center of the room. Mortimer turned his eyes in the direction indicated by the Baroness.

Caroline Bingley was resplendent in a gown of orange shimmering material, with a breathtakingly low neckline, multiple layers of deep lacy flounces, richly bejeweled, all set off by a jeweled turban with no less than nine feathers, in three rows of three.

Lady Drayton and Viscount Norling joined them. Annabelle, her mouth gaping, stared at Caroline. “You know, Sophy, she really is magnificent in rather a bizarre way. She truly has no idea, does she?”

“No, Bella, I don’t believe she does. No doubt she will hear any number of barely veiled insults about her gown and turban this evening, but she won’t even notice. The divine Caroline has the hide of a rhino. I almost admire her,” marveled Sophronia.

They watched Caroline as she walked down the center of the room with her nose in the air, quizzing glasses rising in succession in her wake. Caroline basked in the attention. She could feel hundreds of admiring eyes upon her. How vexing that Mr. Darcy was not there to see!

But she had conquered the ton, and had done it without him. The gentlemen she had met were very attentive and charming, even flattering, unlike the aloof and taciturn master of Pemberley. Still, it was Pemberley that Caroline wanted most. With her newly enhanced prestige and presence, she was certain she would win Mr. Darcy before the next season. She was anticipating more than ever her summer visit to Darcy’s estate.

***

The Hursts, along with Charles, arrived late, having been caught in carriage traffic outside the Markham’s enormous townhouse. They had dressed with special care, Charles and Gilbert handsome in their black evening wear with white embroidered waistcoats; Louisa lovely in midnight blue satin that set off her fine gray eyes and the sparkling emeralds at her throat. They passed through the receiving line and chatted briefly with their hosts. Mrs. Markham was delighted to see them. Gilbert’s mother had been her second cousin, and they had come out together long ago. She introduced them to her husband and daughters, but then had to let them go due to the press of other guests.

Cornelia Markham whispered in her sister’s ear. “ _That’s_ Miss Bingley’s sister?” Judith nodded, her eyes following the Hurst’s progress down the grand staircase. “She’s lovely, and a bit shy perhaps?” Their mother leaned into their conversation. “An arranged marriage, but a successful one, judging from the way Mr. Hurst looks at her.” She sighed. “After all that his family has gone through, I am very happy to see it.”

***

Louisa scanned the crush of people in the capacious ballroom. How would she ever find Caroline? She couldn’t see more than five feet away, and between the orchestra and the hundreds of voices straining to be heard over the music, the three of them could hardly hear each other.

Charles leaned in and said, “I’m going to the card room, Louisa. I really have no interest in dancing tonight.”

She looked at her brother sympathetically. “I understand, Charles. Perhaps you’ll see some friends there.” She could see a few elaborate headdresses circulating about the room, but the crowd was such that she couldn’t see who was wearing them.

“There’s one with nine feathers,” Gilbert said. “Any wagers on who that might be?”  “Oh, dear,” sighed Louisa. “No, I don’t think I want to wager on that.”

Gilbert leaned in to speak in her ear. “May I have this dance, my love?”

She smiled dreamily up at him, her tall husband who looked so handsome in his evening clothes. “Yes, please,” she sighed happily. “Let us just forget about my sister for a while.”

“That’s just what I wanted to hear,” he said, and swept her off into the dance.  They spotted the tall feathers several times as they whirled around the floor. Louisa saw an occasional flash of orange that set her to wondering, but they had danced two complete sets before the crowd shifted enough for them to get a good look at Caroline, ostentatiously dressed to the nines and standing with a tall blond gentleman.

Caroline looked their way and couldn’t believe what her eyes were telling her. How on earth did _they_ get invited? This was _her_ milieu.  She didn’t want to make introductions, though she had to admit they had made themselves presentable at least. Louisa had a new dress and… wait, what was that around her neck? Emeralds! _Where_ had Louisa gotten those emeralds?

They would look very fine with her puce velvet gown. Caroline knew Louisa could be talked into lending them, perhaps permanently. She locked eyes with her sister and was about to turn in her direction when Lord Broughton, not following her gaze, towed her away into the next dance. She turned away with him, forgetting her sister and brother-in-law immediately.

Gilbert and Louisa stared after her. The cut direct! Gilbert watched Caroline’s retreating figure in disbelief. He turned to his wife.

“Louisa, my dear, this is outrageous! This is beyond anything, even for Caroline…” he broke off in dismay, as he saw Louisa shaking with emotion. He put his arm around her shoulders, ready to take his wife home to comfort her in private, but then realized that it was not hurt or humiliation that was causing her to shake, but merriment. She clapped her elegantly gloved hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter, shoulders shaking, tears sparkling in her lashes. Stunned and relieved, he too began to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

The sounds of hilarity reached the ears of Lady Sophronia a few feet away. She turned to find the source and her eyebrows rose. She hadn’t supposed that sourpuss Gilbert Hurst capable of having any fun at all. Would wonders never cease?

“Let us find Charles and go home, my dear,” said Louisa, catching her breath.

“You don’t wish to dance anymore?”

“I would rather be home with you.” She looked up into his eyes. “I’m sure we can find something else to do, my love,” she said mischievously, waggling her eyebrows

***

Elizabeth’s correspondence with Charlotte had become something of a lifeline, if sparse and irregular because of the weather. Hertfordshire had suffered from an almost constant onslaught of snow and sleet, while farther south in Kent, there had been occasional snowstorms but mostly a steady cold wind and icy sleet which had turned roads into quagmires. She sat in her room writing, having left Mary and Kitty watching over their father.

 

_My dear Charlotte,_

_I hope this letter finds you safe, warm, and well. I wonder if you have been suffering the same bitter weather at Hunsford that we have been having at Longbourn. We keep to the house, although I still occasionally try to walk outside if I can. I would go mad if I could not, although some days I struggle through drifts of snow. Many days it is simply too cold to venture outdoors. Has there ever been such a winter!_

_I do not doubt that your parents or Maria have described my father’s illness to you. He does not improve. Jane and I are dependent upon the advice of our uncles and our dear neighbors, whenever we can receive letters or visits, which has not been often. Our mother keeps to her room, and Jane, Mary, and I are charged with our father’s care. Kitty and Lydia, to our great relief, do not complain about their removal from society. Indeed, they have been so helpful and responsible I don’t know what we would do without them._

_The weather also causes the regiment to be mostly confined to barracks, which we have heard has been difficult, especially for Mr. Wickham. Dear Charlotte, our eyes have been opened to what kind of a person he is. Gaming and intoxication are the least of his sins. It is said that he is in debt to many of the shopkeepers in Meryton, and has debts of honor among his fellow officers as well. There has been a rumor that he tried to drag Biddy Sykes into the stables behind the inn, but was stopped by her brother. I confess Charlotte, that I am heartily ashamed to have been so taken in by him, having once believed myself to be a tolerably good judge of character. I am chagrined to find that Mr. Darcy, and even worse, Miss Bingley, were in the right about him._

_Colonel Forster and Captain Denny have been so good as to visit with my father occasionally, weather permitting. My Uncle Philips and your good father also have attended him as much as they can. Although my mother would strenuously deny it, Jane and I believe this to be our father’s final illness. Jane and I have been considering what choices we may have in keeping our family together. We can stay with my Aunt Philips temporarily, but as you know their home is small. Jane, Mary, and I have decided that as soon as possible, we will make inquiries into finding positions as governesses, or perhaps companions. Our Uncle Gardiner wishes us to postpone our inquiries until details of the estate are settled, but I would feel better if I can bring additional income to my family as soon as possible, and cannot in any event imagine any other alternative._

_Well, my dear Charlotte, I have wallowed in self-pity for long enough. I will finish now and get this letter ready for the post. Uncle Phillips is with my father and he will take it in to Meryton for me._

_With affection,_

_Lizzy_

 

***

At last it was time for the unveiling. The drawing room had gone from faded splendor to stylish elegance. Louisa and Madeline had chosen exquisite fabrics and furnishings that combined warmth, comfort, and sophisticated taste. The worn, heavy drapes at the large windows were replaced by airy fabrics that let the light in. The new chandelier glittered. After their project was finished, Louisa proudly led Charles and Gilbert into the drawing room. They marveled at the transformation, and tried out the various chairs and sofas.

Charles commented on the appealing combination of colors, and Louisa answered somewhat shyly,” I added some warm colors, but wanted to retain some touches of Prussian blue. That was Gilbert’s mother’s favorite color, and I felt that it would be nice to keep some of her here with us.” She turned to her husband and held out her hand.

Hurst’s throat tightened. He was at a complete loss for words. He took her hand in his. “My darling, that is so wonderfully thoughtful of you.”

Louisa sent a note to Riverton House inviting her sister to see the new drawing room. The note went from footman to butler to maid to Bertha to Caroline, only to nestle, unopened, on the salver amongst its predecessors. Caroline was already late for an appointment with her modiste.

***

Elizabeth, mentally and physically exhausted, lay in her bed. Her father had been noticeably worse all day, and she had been up and down the stairs many times fetching for him, as well as wading through deep snowdrifts out to the stables to speak with Emmons. As had come to be her usual reaction to Mr. Bennet’s bad days, Mrs. Bennet had taken out her anxieties on her second daughter. Lizzy’s head throbbed, and her tensed muscles were tied in painful knots from head to toe.

Jane had come into Mr. Bennet’s room and sent Elizabeth off to bed. She was sitting with their father now, reading to him. Lizzy was trying to relax enough to fall asleep, to no avail, even though she was bone-weary.  Snow was falling thick and fast outside, and in the unnatural quiet she let her mind drift. Before she knew it, into her woolgathering thoughts arrived Mr. Darcy. She was too tired to push him out of her mind as she usually did, so he stayed.

He gazed at her seriously, but not in the fierce way that he had stared at her at Netherfield. His eyes were soft and his expression gentle. “You are so weary, Miss Elizabeth, I am quite worried about you,” he said softly to her in his deep voice. He sat on the bed next to her, and took her hand in both of his. “Let us imagine that we are walking on a warm summer morning,” he said, and suddenly they were strolling down a lush green path under dappled sunshine, her arm twined with his. As she felt herself relaxing into deep sleep, he smiled down at her, kissed her hand, and let her go.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

***

Darcy, having thrown a dressing gown over his breeches and shirt, slowly and wearily stretched his long legs out before the roaring fire, warming his bare feet. His toes were numb. He was mentally and physically exhausted. In addition to his now chronic sleeplessness, he had worked feverishly in the stables and barns all day alongside the stablehands, moving hay and oats, preparing for another fierce winter storm. His muscles ached and his fatigue was overwhelming. He prayed he might sleep deeply tonight. Darkness had fallen, but he could hear the wind rising and knew that clouds laden with snow were once more poised to bury Pemberley. Such a winter had not been seen within living memory.

Yet, he was glad of it. He need not make excuses for never going out or being in company. He raised a glass of port before the fire’s glow and stared into the deep red lights of the wine. Tossing the remains of the liquid back, he set the glass down on the side table and settled deeper into the luxurious leather chair, legs resting straight out before him on the ottoman. He could feel his tired, aching body sinking into the cushions, and his weary mind sinking into slumber.

The soft darkness enveloped him, and he was once again lost in a memory of Netherfield _, walking back up to the manor house after spending the morning shooting with Bingley. Bingley had been so anxious to inquire after Miss Bennet’s condition that he had carelessly left his gun leaning against a tree when he had hurried away ahead of the others, instead of handing it to his servant. Darcy, not wishing to be back in Miss Bingley’s company quite so soon, was wasting time by carrying it to the gun room at the back of the house. As he passed the open door to the kitchen, he could hear the sounds of conversation and laughter._

_A laugh like musical bubbles pricked his ear, and his feet stopped walking of their own volition. He forgot his errand, and stepped as quietly as possible toward the wide wooden door. Choosing an angle where he would not be easily discovered, he peered into the large, warm kitchen. There she was, smiling and talking to one of the undercooks. From what he could make out of the conversation, he gathered that the woman was the daughter of one of Mr. Bennet’s tenants. She appeared to hold Elizabeth in great regard._

_He drank in the vision of his sparkling girl, rocking and cuddling the young woman’s baby, and talking softly to it. For her efforts, Elizabeth was rewarded by a wide toothless baby smile. The kitchen servants were gathered round and they all laughed together. Elizabeth’s face was suffused with delight. His heart beat faster. He wanted to be next to her, and one foot shifted forward before he recalled himself to the unseemliness of fraternizing with his host’s servants._

_At that moment the cook stepped over to Elizabeth, “Here you are, Miss. Some nice broth and bread for Miss Bennet. I am glad to hear she is ready to take some proper food today!” As Elizabeth handed the baby back to its mother, Cook turned to the group, “All right you lot, the party’s over! What if the master’s sister should find us like this!” Everyone laughed, and the group broke up. Elizabeth thanked the cook and left the kitchen with the tray, accompanied by a maid with a pitcher of water. Darcy stood rooted to the spot a moment longer, before he recalled himself and finished his errand._

As the dream transformed into a picture of Elizabeth and himself cuddling their own baby, Darcy slightly shifted position in his sleep. His face relaxed, and a tiny smile teased the corners of his mouth.

In the dark of the study, his valet, Talbot, stood watching over him with concern. He observed that his master was having a pleasant dream that for once had not brought him the passionate night visions from which he awoke, breathing hard, drenched in sweat or worse. No, tonight Mr. Darcy would get some desperately needed rest. His valet covered him with a blanket, and left the room.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 4. Thank you all for your kudos and commentary! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!


	5. "Georgie unfolded the letters, and there she was"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your commentary and kudos! 
> 
> As always, my astute colleagues, please let me know if you see any errors, clumsy edits, or etc.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this!

                                                                                    

 

From the time Sophronia had come to live with her aunt, she and Baron Riverton had taken breakfast together at every opportunity. Her Aunt Augusta preferred to sleep till noon, and over the years Sophy and the Baron had built a deep and enduring friendship over kippers and sausages.

Sophronia knocked quietly on the door to her husband’s sitting room. “Enter,” came the faint reply. She came into the cozy room to find him sitting up with a newspaper in his lap, a twinkle in his eye.

“Rupert!” she said with delight. “I came to see if you felt up to having breakfast. You look well today! The last few days… well, I have missed you, dearest friend.”

The Baron’s smile was rueful. ”I am sorry, little Sophy. I miss you, too. Of course, there is nothing to be done about it, is there? The fog just seems to take over my old head sometimes. You are stuck with a doddering old hulk.”

Sophronia moved to his side and put her arms around him.  She looked at him with moist eyes. “Rupert! I am not stuck! I love you dearly and it is my privilege to care for you. You have always taken such good care of me.”

Rupert chuckled. “As if you needed anyone to take care of you. You are a rare one, Sophy, just like Gussie was! I tried to make her marry me, you know. But after Havering died, she didn’t need or want another husband. Just being her lover was heaven on earth, though.” He heaved a deep sigh.

Sophronia smiled at him sadly. “I understand my aunt’s determination to be independent, Rupert, but in your case, I think she should have given remarriage more thought.”

The Baron threw back his head and laughed. “So, when I am gone, are you going to marry that handsome young fellow of yours? Don’t be shy, girl, I know what is going on! He’s a decent man, and he’d do anything for you, including squire around that ridiculous Bingley woman. Egad, that chit loves the sound of her own voice, eh? Who are her people, anyway? Would I know them?”

“Her family is rather more recent than those of our circle, my dear,” smirked Sophronia, sidestepping the marriage question. She rang for breakfast, and they settled in for a chat.

Sophronia watched Rupert push his food around his plate more than he ate. He smiled and laughed as she related the latest gossip, but he was only half attending to her words.

“My child,” he began, “There is something I wish to speak with you about.”  He paused, and with a twisted smile pointed to his head. “I do seem to be rowing with both oars today, so now is the time.”

Sophronia steeled herself. She had feared that this was coming.

“Sophy, my child, I feel that I am… well, running down. No, not ill precisely, but… very tired, very weary and… I have decided to go home to Abbotsford. My body is beginning to fail me, and I wish to spend my last days there.  As soon as possible, though I will wait until the roads are safe.” He looked at her. “Is there any hope that you will come with me? It would of course mean leaving town and…”

“Of course, I will come with you! You are my only family, Rupert. We will go, you and I, as soon as possible.”

***

As freezing rain pelted down outside, coating every surface with a thick layer of ice, Charlotte Collins sat in her snug little sitting room and looked at the post, which her housekeeper had just brought in. It was a larger stack than usual, and she supposed some break in the weather in Hertfordshire had allowed letters to finally escape to their destinations. She wrapped her shawl more tightly about her shoulders and began to read. After reading them all, she sat frowning, staring at the fire for a long time. Finally rousing herself, she went to her little desk and began to write.

 

_My dearest Lizzy,_

_This morning two of your letters came at once, delayed no doubt by the terrible winter Hertfordshire is experiencing. I also had a letter from Papa and two from Maria in the same bundle. The occurrence of all these points of view being expressed to me on the same day, I almost feel as if I were home again._

_I have also discovered, dear Lizzy, that you have not been describing the half of the sorrow you have been living in. I am deeply grieved to hear that your beloved father will not recover. My own father concurs with your sad news. Papa also tells me that your mother is not only too overwrought to care for your father, but requires care herself. He grieves that he and my mother, and your Uncle and Aunt Philips are often prevented from assisting you by the deep snow and wretched cold. You did not mention that in addition for caring for your father that you have been trying to manage estate matters with so little assistance. Lizzy, I wish with all my heart that I could be there for you in person._

_Since that cannot be, I shall contrive to do what I can for you from here. I have not told Mr. Collins of your father’s illness, nor has anyone in my family. There are no other persons from whom he could receive this intelligence. I will not apprise my husband that anything is amiss until after I am informed of your father’s death._

_Until then, Lizzy, as future mistress of Longbourn, I decree that you, your mother and your sisters remove anything you wish to keep from the house before we arrive. I know that you will take all your personal things, but I urge you to pack up any pictures, small furnishings, books, letters and other momentos and take them with you to wherever your family will abide. I don’t believe my husband will miss them._

_I will also remind our esteemed patroness Lady Catherine that until she can find a new parson to take the place of Mr. Collins, we will stay on. That will allow you and your family what I hope will be a generous amount of time to find other lodgings. I believe I can promise we will stay away until summer. Lizzy, my thoughts are continually with you. If there is any other way I can assist you, you have only to name it._

_May God bless and keep you, my dearest friend._

_Fondly,_

_Charlotte_

***

Elizabeth dreamed of Darcy again. It had become a habit. She had come to welcome his presence in her dreams. At first he had only walked with her, her hand tucked into his arm, and listened carefully and seriously to her woes. Then he began to hold her hand, their fingers interlaced, and she could hear his voice as if he was truly standing right next to her. Occasionally he took out his large handkerchief and wiped away her tears. Then one day, her imaginary friend put his arms around her and comforted her, murmuring in a low voice as she laid her head on his strong shoulder.

As the weeks went by, Elizabeth’s dream persona became more and more deeply attached to her tall, handsome confidant. Mortified, she found that she had no control over the deepening familiarity between her imaginary self and Mr. Darcy. They had gotten to the point where she sometimes sat on his lap with his arms around her, pouring out her heart to him. She had sobbed into his chest as he held her and just listened. Then in her dreams last night he had laid his cheek upon her hair! In her waking hours she blushed to think that she dreamed of sitting in his lap every night. Deeply discomfited, she gave silent thanks that there was no likelihood that she would ever see him again.  How would she even look him in the face?

***

Her drawing room redecorated and her confidence boosted by the calling cards beginning to appear on the crystal tray by the door, Louisa decided to host her own small gathering. She invited Sir Edmund and Lady Susan to dinner, along with Madeline and Edward Gardiner. She planned the menu carefully, and even went to the extra expense of having the pianoforte tuned for music afterwards.

Her instincts served her well. Gilbert was a charming host, and the Gardiners and the Ellerbys found that they had much in common, including a few acquaintances. The drawing room, however, was the hit of the evening. Although involved in the planning, Madeline had not had a chance to see the finished product. The ladies exclaimed over the furnishings and the chandelier, which gave Mr. Gardiner the opportunity to describe his business to Sir Edmund.

“Oh, Louisa! Why did you not tell me of this earlier? It is wonderful!” enthused Susan. She turned to Sir Edmund. “You know, dear, our home is beginning to look a bit worn. Let us consider redecorating our own drawing room. Or perhaps the music room! I would like to replace that carpet in the morning room as well…”

Sir Edmund eyed his wife, and then turned to his host. “Hurst, I shall hold you responsible for this.” His eyes softened as he looked at Lady Susan. “My wife has been missing our home in Shropshire. Perhaps a few improvements here and there will help her stay cheerful until such time as the weather improves.”

When the evening came to a close, Louisa and Gilbert were pleased with their dinner party, their guests were glad of their new acquaintances, and Edward Gardiner had a new investor in his company.

***

In the depths of the night, Jane woke, drowsily aware that someone seemed to be speaking to her. She raised her head from her pillow, trying to understand who was talking and what was being said. As her head began to clear, she recognized that she was in her bedroom, and that Lizzy was talking, but not to her. Jane peered through the darkness at her sister who was herself deep in slumber. Lizzy was murmuring in her sleep, and as Jane pondered whether to wake her sister, she heard the words “Darcy … so kind…” Instantly Jane was wide awake and listening intently to every word Lizzy uttered. The words were muttered and blurred with sleep, but Jane came to understand that Lizzy was carrying on a conversation with Mr. Darcy, and a very familiar one at that.

Lizzy, who had professed a dislike of that gentleman from the beginning of their acquaintance, was dreaming of him, speaking to him in tones that could only be described as warm and cozy. Jane lay her head back down on her pillow, wondering. Mr. Bingley esteemed his reserved friend deeply, believing him to be a good, decent man. Could Lizzy have sensed that about him as well? Jane decided not to say anything about it to her sister. Why embarrass her? She herself derived some small comfort from her dreams of Bingley. She could not begrudge similar comfort to her sister. But Mr. Darcy? And Lizzy? Together? The very idea made her smile. She closed her eyes, snuggled back into the warmth of her blankets, and drifted back to sleep.

***

Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds walked together into the breakfast room, discussing the distribution of food to the tenants, seeking Darcy’s opinion on moving more provisions around the estate by sledge. Georgiana saw her brother at the breakfast table with some papers in front of him. His chin sagged in his hand, and his eyelids were drooping. He appeared not to notice them.

“Fitzwilliam,” said Georgiana gently, trying to get his attention without startling him.

“What is it, Elizabeth?” he answered abstractedly, without looking up.

Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds looked at each other in astonishment, and then beat a hasty, if silent, retreat from the room. “Miss Georgiana,” said Mrs. Reynolds, “this is awkward, to say the least. Why would he call you Elizabeth? This is so very worrisome! The master has not been himself since he returned to Pemberley before Christmas.”

“I confess I have been worried about him for some time,” answered Georgiana, “and this is the third time he has called me Elizabeth in the last few weeks.”

“Talbot tells me that he sits in his study until very late at night, and often spends the night in there, sleeping in his clothes,” fretted Mrs. Reynolds. Georgiana was silent, her brows furrowed. It had become evident that her brother’s mysterious behavior did not relate to her misadventure at Ramsgate the previous summer.

Darcy was indeed unaware that his sister and the housekeeper had been in the room. His sleep had again been fitful, and even though he was feigning attention to the papers before him, in truth he was struggling to gather his wits about him to face another day.

***

Later that evening, as she prepared for bed, Georgiana was deep in thought. She knew she should recall something about an Elizabeth.  It was familiar, but just beyond the reach of her memory. She could not think of any woman with that name who was known to her. Where would Fitzwilliam have met someone that she had not met? In London? Surely he would have written to her about it.

But Fitzwilliam never spoke with her about women in his life. He was eight-and-twenty, after all. Of course, he must have met some ladies he admired by now, or perhaps even courted one. She knew without having ever been told that he had no admiration for Miss Bingley. Her stomach clenched at the mere thought.  Georgiana was naively unaware that her brother was such a prize in society’s avaricious marriage mart that he avoided the company of most women.

Her brow furrowed, she barely noticed as her maid brushed out her hair and helped her into a flannel nightgown. She climbed into her bed, already warmed by hot bricks, and decided to put it out of her mind. She felt her body begin to relax under the thick counterpane.

The penny dropped. Her eyes flew open. She scrambled out of bed and ran to a small cupboard, throwing open the door. She seized a carved wooden box which held all the letters she had received from her brother. Since Fitzwilliam had been at Pemberley with her all winter, there had been no letters since early December.

She took out the most recent letters he had sent, from Hertfordshire. Georgiana wondered why she hadn’t noticed it before. Perhaps because she had been so caught up in her own misery. Fitzwilliam never talked about women, but when he had written from Netherfield, he had mentioned one young lady several times in each of his letters.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Georgie unfolded the letters and; there she was: Elizabeth Bennet. She raised her face from the pile of letters in her lap, her eyes wide, a smile slowly spreading across her face. _Fitzwilliam was in love!_

***

Sophronia was encouraged by the slight easing of the weather. She had determined to honor her husband’s wishes and take him home to his estate in Sussex the last weeks or, hopefully, months of his life. The household was busy packing for the journey. Although his estate was only a day’s ride from London, Sophronia was worried that the journey alone would be enough to put him into a final decline.

Broughton was worried about her, and hated to see her go. “I would like to accompany you, Sophy. Do you think there is any way we can accomplish that without drawing too much attention?”

She considered. “I do wish you could accompany us, Alfred, but we would have to bring Caroline. Oh, dear, at such a time as this!”

 “If some of us came along and put it about that it was merely a house party, perhaps we won’t raise suspicion.”

So it was decided that Broughton, the Draytons, and Lord and Lady Spurlock, along with Miss Bingley, would accompany Baron and Baroness Riverton to Sussex. Bracing themselves for a treacherous journey, they were pleased to find that the farther south they traveled from London, the easier travel became. At the end of a very long day, the small caravan of coaches arrived at Abbotsford Park.

***

By late February, the days were noticeably longer; the sun, though usually behind clouds, was rising higher in the sky. Darcy and his steward rode farm horses around the estate, not wishing to risk harming any of the thoroughbreds in the deep and heavy snow. Both men took note of slight changes in the air. It had been several days since the last powerful snowstorm, although it was still windy and too cold for any snow to melt. Darcy began to consider another attempt to clear the road leading out of Pemberley. Surely by now the weather would moderate enough to prevent another inundation of snow, and normal travel could resume. Later that day, plowhorses pulling planks behind them, followed by men with shovels, had begun the arduous task of clearing the road out of Pemberley.

***

Jane and Elizabeth sat at the window in their father’s chamber, watching a cold rain fall. The sun had finally begun to show its face occasionally, and the air had warmed slightly. Hill had even reported hearing birdsong. Mr. Bennet had fallen asleep and Elizabeth had set down the book she had been reading aloud. Their silent reverie was interrupted by the sound of his voice, very quiet, but his familiar dry and quizzical tone was intact.

“Girls,” he said, beckoning faintly as they both quickly turned to him. “Yes Papa, what do you need?” said Jane, going over to his bedside. Mr. Bennet patted the edge of the bed for her to sit down beside him.

“My firstborn,” he said in a cracked voice, gazing at Jane’s beautiful face, “you look so worried, my child. Try not to be melancholy.” “Oh Papa,” said Jane, almost in a whisper, “Try to save your strength. Let me give you some water.”

Her father did as he was told as Jane held the glass to his lips. “You’ve taken such good care of me, Jane,” he smiled, with a bit of his old twinkle, “You will be quite a wonderful mother someday.”

“Oh, Papa,” Jane sighed sadly, “I do not see that in my future.”

“Of course you will,” teased Mr. Bennet, “On this I agree with your mother; you cannot be so beautiful for nothing.” In a gentler tone he added, “I know how sad you have been since the Bingleys removed from the neighborhood last fall. I think everyone has been fooled by your calm demeanor. Everyone except the two people in this room with you, at any rate,” he said with a sideways glance at Elizabeth.

He then looked at her affectionately. “Jane, I do believe with all my heart that your Mr. Bingley will find his way back to you. Perhaps the bad weather has been keeping him away, but it has nothing to do with you. I will tell you this, my child, he was completely in love with you.”

“I dream of him, Papa,” admitted Jane in a sad whisper.

“He’s your white knight, is he?” smiled her father.

Jane’s smile was sad. “In my imagination, he is,” she admitted. Then she shook her head. “Good night, Papa,” she said, and kissed his cheek.

“Goodnight, my child,” her father answered. “Don’t forget how much you are loved, and not just by Mr. Bingley”.

Jane left and closed the door quietly.

Elizabeth, her voice strained, snapped, “I wish you wouldn’t have said that, Papa. There is no reason to reopen old wounds! That was terribly unkind! You know that Miss Bingley wrote that they would not be returning, and that Mr. Bingley is courting Miss Darcy!” The room was silent.

At last her father spoke. “Lizzy, my argumentative child, of all things, I will be most sorry to leave you,” he said, his voice even more quiet.

Elizabeth left her place at the window over to the bed and sat where her sister had been sitting moments before. He reached for her hand and she took his in hers. It felt hot and dry, and his pulse, though slow and steady, was faint. There was no use in denying how short his time was.

He continued, “I’m sorry to leave you to suffer, you have borne much between caring for me and taking over my affairs. I am aware of how much your mother persecutes you for not marrying Mr. Collins. Please do not be afraid of what the future will hold for you, my child.” 

“I don’t think I could have married Mr. Collins, even under our dire circumstances. Mama might just as well wish that Mr. Bingley hadn’t quit Netherfield,” said Elizabeth bitterly.

Mr. Bennet looked at her seriously. “Lizzy, not only is it my belief that Mr. Bingley will return, he will probably bring his tall, proud friend with him.” Lizzy’s eyes widened in surprise and a deep blush crept up her cheeks, as her father enjoyed a quiet laugh at her expense. She opened her mouth but could think of nothing to say.

“You’ve been caught out, my dear, you _have_ been thinking of him!” he chuckled, as Elizabeth’s cheeks went from rose to blazing scarlet.

“Sir, I hardly know Mr. Darcy, and you yourself know that he did not recommend himself to me during our very brief acquaintance. ’Not handsome enough to tempt me’ were, I believe, the words he used,” retorted Elizabeth, keeping her tone carefully level. “Besides, I don’t feel like teasing today, Papa. Please, please don’t.”  

Mr. Bennet took no notice of her request and responded, with a trace of his old sportive tone, “I don’t recollect telling you, my child, that I was observing my daughters carefully the evening of the ball at Netherfield. My object was to watch Jane and Mr. Bingley, but their feelings were obvious, at least for those of us who know Jane. There was no sport in that. No, Lizzy, my evening’s entertainment then rested with you and Mr. Darcy. He could not take his eyes off you, my dear.”

“No doubt he was making notes on the Bennet family’s conduct for Miss Bingley’s amusement later in the evening,” Elizabeth snapped, unable to keep the mortification out of her voice, “When I recall our family’s shameful behavior, I’m deeply relieved that I will never have to meet him again!”

Her father ignored her and went on, “From my experience, an expression of superiority such as the one Mr. Darcy habitually wears is assumed because its wearer is uncomfortable in society. Perhaps even shy.”

It was startling to think of the austere Mr. Darcy as shy, but she realized that there might be something to that notion. “I believe Mr. Darcy was rather entranced with you,” her father continued, “I also believe that may have had something to do with the Netherfield party’s precipitous departure.”

“Papa, I cannot believe that! The Bingleys left because Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy decided that the society of Meryton and particularly the Bennet sisters were not up to their standards.”

“Do you not think it possible that that they left because Miss Bingley was afraid that she had lost both her brother as well as Mr. Darcy, the object of her ambitions, to those said Bennet sisters?” 

“I don’t think anybody, even Miss Bingley, could have made Mr. Darcy leave unless he wanted to,” retorted Lizzy. Shocked at the hurt in her own voice, she shut her mouth so abruptly that her teeth clicked.

“Lizzy, perhaps I will not convince you, but I tell you what I saw. I saw your sister and Mr. Bingley staring at each other as if they were completely unaware of the rest of the world. I saw Mr. Darcy unable to look at anyone but you.”

“What an entertaining character he is. A man who has so much at his command, yet he seems to have no joy. You are a lovely, intelligent young woman who did not fawn on him for his wealth and position, who even teased him and laughed at him. He was helpless. I almost pity the man. When actually confronted with a woman worthy of him, he turned tail and ran.”

Elizabeth, her distress mounting, couldn’t help but snort at this. Her father continued, “Mr. Darcy is trapped under the weight of social expectations, just as surely as you and your sisters are and I daresay that not only is he attracted to you, but he needs you. If he hasn’t figured that out already, he soon will. I observed him closely on a few occasions and it occurred to me that he has very little merriment in his life. You can bring him laughter, my dear.”

“So I am to marry Mr. Darcy because he needs a good laugh?” scoffed Elizabeth.

“You need a man like him, too, my girl, and that is why you don’t like him,” retorted her father. “He may be proud, but he is an honorable and intelligent man. You need someone who is your equal; that you can esteem and trust.”

His voice became serious. “Your lively talents place you in the greatest danger of an unequal marriage. My child, let me not imagine the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life.”

Elizabeth found herself in a state of agitated disbelief. Here they were, discussing a man with whom they had had the barest acquaintance, when she and her family were on the verge of homelessness and penury. She was pierced by a white-hot bolt of anger, her jaw clenching, her hands clenching white-knuckled into fists.  If her father had been more diligent in his responsibilities, if her mother wasn’t a completely helpless fool, it would not now be incumbent upon their three eldest daughters to try and keep the family together, find a place to live, and work to provide income. Yet here was her father, teasing her about a man she hardly knew, a man who despised them as far beneath his consideration. No sooner had she felt the flash then she suppressed it with an effort, and struggled to compose herself. She closed her eyes, forcibly straightened her fingers, and swallowed, hard.

“Papa, I know not why you are going on about Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. They have nothing more to do with us. Let us just find comfort in the time we have together this moment.” She again reached for his hand, and held it in both of hers as he sank back into the pillows.

He shut his eyes, and then opened them again. “Nevertheless, Lizzy, tell your sister that both of your forthcoming nuptials have my blessing,” he said wickedly.

Elizabeth found that remark neither humorous nor appropriate. She was upset and angry and didn’t want their conversation to end this way. She rose abruptly and walked to the window so her father wouldn’t see the tears beginning to course down her cheeks. She had sworn not to cry in front of him.

“Lizzy,” she heard him say, his voice a gentle breath, “Don’t cry, my child. Remember our happy times together. Don’t grieve for me. Experience your life fully, marry for love and respect, take joy wherever you find it! Don’t burden yourself with sadness for me. My most fervent wish is for you to be happy!”

She returned to his bedside and sat next to him. “Oh, Papa,” she said in a whisper.

“You have brought me great happiness, my child. Remember what I said. Move forward with your life! Take joy!” He smiled at her again, and closed his eyes. All was quiet, the clock ticking on the dressing table.

“Take joy,” Lizzy repeated to herself, not quite listening, focused instead on the letter of application for work sitting on the writing table in her room.

Mr. Bennet fell into a deep sleep. The hours passed, and as the moon rose and the melting snow dripped off the roof, he slipped quietly away.

***

Darcy stood staring out the window of his study as the clock struck 4:00 am. The night sky was crystal clear for the first time in weeks and the Milky Way glittered austerely over the white landscape, but his eyes did not take in the stark beauty before him. After another restless night, Fitzwilliam Darcy was casting a hard look at his own life.

Darcy had not minded the involuntary confinement to his estate over the past few months; he had at first welcomed it. As the weeks and months wore on however, his splendid isolation had become something more like torture, as forced inactivity had led his mind to dwell more and more on what was missing in his life.

Darcy now understood how truly lonely he was. He knew that his long-held plan to marry any tolerable woman of sufficient breeding and fortune to preside over his establishments would never work. After weeks of denial, it was painfully clear that he had fallen deeply in love with Elizabeth Bennet. No other woman would ever do for him.

Yet the impropriety of such a misalliance pained him to his core. The reactions of his family and peers would be negative in the extreme. His choice was between his duty and his own personal happiness.

Many men of his status married for societal expectation and found a mistress for love. Darcy would never consider having a mistress and knew that Elizabeth would never consent to be one. Steeped in the belief that duty, obligation, and honor were central, Darcy had arrived at the bleak conclusion that he would most likely never marry. Still standing, unseeing, at the window, Darcy leaned his overheated forehead against the cold glass, wondering how he would ever manage to live without her.

He thought about Bingley, and a corner of his mouth lifted slightly. Even if he was sentenced to a loveless life didn’t mean his friend had to suffer the same. Charles’ fortune and family were new and without the heavy weight of generations of expectation and tradition. Charles had more freedom to marry where he chose, Caroline’s opinion notwithstanding. Truly remorseful, he pictured Bingley as he had looked the last time he had seen him, still suffering over Miss Bennet. _Will he forgive me?_

He turned away from the window and went to his desk. Sitting down, he took out a sheet of paper and a pen, and began to write. By the time he had finished, he could hear the servants beginning to stir. He folded the letter, addressed and sealed it. He then hurried out to the stables and spoke to the first stable boy he saw.

“Jem, take this letter to the post office in Lambton,” he said, “tell them it needs to go out today as an express.” “Yes, sir. I know I can get through as far as Lambton.” The boy ran to saddle a sturdy little cob and was soon galloping down the snowy road.

***

Mrs. Bennet succumbed entirely to hysterics, and had to be sedated. An express was sent to the house in Gracechurch Street. Jane sent a footman to notify the undertaker, and by late that afternoon Mr. Bennet’s mortal remains had been washed, dressed, and laid out in the drawing room, in a black casket set up on a long table. A black crape cloth with trim of black velvet riband covered the casket, and vases of winter greenery and large black candles were placed at either end of the coffin. Elizabeth stood in the gloom, staring at the coffin, herself a ghostly vision.

***

The sun was shining in a blue cloudless sky as Hurst arrived at Mr. Gardiner’s office for another meeting. The harsh winter was abating. Clear air with the barest hint of warmth added to Gilbert’s uplifted mood. Hurst looked forward to these meetings, and as his relationship with Gardiner had grown from business partner to respected friend, Henderson no longer came with him to every appointment. He swung himself up the stairs and through the door, only to find that Mr. Gardiner wasn’t there.

Hurst was nonplussed. Gardiner was so dependable. Something must have happened. He hurried to the house on Gracechurch Street to see if his friend had become ill. Upon arriving there, he raised the knocker and the door was abruptly opened by an obviously agitated Gardiner standing in the foyer with his wife. Gilbert stood still, his eyes wide. Mr. Gardiner stared, then looked remorseful.

“Oh, Hurst!” he exclaimed, “I had forgotten our meeting today! My deepest apologies, I meant to send a message to you!”

“That is not like you, Gardiner, but I can see that something has shaken you both! Have you received some unhappy news?” asked Hurst.

Gardiner took a breath, “Do you recall that I have spoken of my brother-in-law’s illness over the last several weeks?

“I do indeed,” said Hurst, “Has your brother taken a turn for the worse?”

“It is much worse than that,” said Madeline in a shaky voice, “We have just received an express. Our brother has died very early this morning. We are leaving for Hertfordshire immediately. Edward’s sister is not up to the responsibilities of arranging these affairs, and his two eldest daughters have been trying to manage the household and estate themselves. Now their situation is precarious indeed. Their estate is entailed to my brother’s distant cousin, and his wife and five daughters will have to leave their home.”

Hurst gaped at them, as a bell went off in his head. “Hertfordshire! I hope it is not a long drive! Are the roads passable? Where in Hertfordshire? How long will it take for you to get there?”

“It is an estate called Longbourn, not but a mile from the town of Meryton, so we hope to get there before it is too late in the evening.”

“Longbourn!” cried Hurst, “I do believe I know of it. I am so very sorry to hear of your grief and all the difficulties inherent with it! Is there any way that Louisa and I can be of assistance? ”

“That is indeed kind of you, Hurst,” said Gardiner, “I know not what arrangements we will need to make for the family or how long we will be gone. Once their cousin decides to take possession of the estate, they have nowhere to go. Their income will not be sufficient, either. Solutions for all these problems must be found. We deeply appreciate your kind offer of assistance. If the need arises I may take you up on it.” At that moment, the Gardiners’ coachman stepped through the door, and the couple boarded the carriage and rode away.

Hurst rode home as quickly as he could, threading his way through the traffic and cursing the crowds. It was the first decent day in months, and everyone was out. After handing the reins to his groom, he ran into the house, taking the stairs in twos, and hurried into the parlor.

Charles and Louisa looked up at him in surprise. “Gilbert! I thought you would be in a meeting all afternoon! What is the matter?” cried Louisa, astonished at the intent look on her husband’s face.

“I’ve just had some shocking news from Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner!” he said, looking from one of them to the other. “I have just discovered that our own Mr. Gardiner is uncle to the Bennet sisters of Longbourn! The uncle in Cheapside that Caroline sneered at! He is the brother of Mrs. Bennet!”

Louisa was agape, but Gilbert was not finished with his news. “When Gardiner was speaking of his seriously ill brother, it was Mr. Bennet he was speaking of. Mr. Bennet has died very early this morning, and the Gardiners are on their way to Longbourn. Longbourn is entailed away from Mrs. Bennet and her daughters, and in their grief they are going to have to find another home. They have nowhere to go and very little to live on.”

Charles stared at Gilbert in horror. His mouth opened and closed, and then opened and closed again. Then he was on his feet, pacing in agitation, wringing his hands. ”And to think that I could have been married to Jane by now! I could have taken them all to Netherfield!”

Gilbert gripped his arm and said urgently, “You could still do that, Charles. You still hold the lease to Netherfield. Gather up your courage and go to Longbourn. Visit the family. Offer your condolences and your assistance. Offer them the use of Netherfield. Or open up the dower house for them. They need you.”

Charles cried, “I will. I will! Poor, poor Miss Bennet! What they have been through! But what shall I say? How will she receive me? What must they think of me? ”

Louisa spoke up, “That does not signify now, Charles! They are in need, and you may be able to help them as well as assist Mr. Gardiner.”

 Her husband added gently, “You don’t know how they will receive you Charles, but I know you will have the courage to find out. Indeed, you need to know!”

“I’ll go tomorrow at first light,” said Charles, an expression of determination forming on his face. “I’ll pack tonight, and order the carriage for the morning.”

“I’ll send some provisions with you,” said Louisa, rising and walking toward the door as she made her plans aloud. “I’ve got some fabric suitable for mourning clothes as well.”

Gilbert turned to his brother. “Charles,” he said, putting his hand on Bingley’s arm and looking straight into his eyes, “Before you leave, you must get a special license. You might need it.”

Charles stared at him, but then a small wistful smile flitted over his face. “I hope so,” he said.

Louisa left the room, her whirling with ideas of what the Bennet family night need. She rang for the housekeeper, and the two women gathered up a several bolts of black and gray fabric and trimmings that remained from when old Mr. Bingley had died. A case of wine and one of cider, a box of tea leaves, cheeses, potted meats and fruit were added to the list. Louisa then ordered the cook’s assistant to bake several more loaves in the morning to add to the total.

***

The next morning, Gilbert, Louisa, and Charles were all up early. The carriage was filling up, as Bingley’s valet had packed for a long stay, and Louisa had filled the remainder of the space with provisions for the Bennets. Bingley’s valet and a groom were traveling along, in case the road was still full of snow.

Gilbert was standing in front of the house, seeing to the loading of the carriage when a muddy and travel-stained rider pulled up, and dismounting, made for the front door. Gilbert stopped him and asked him his business. “I have an express here for Mr. Charles Bingley, sir,” the messenger said.

“I’m Bingley,” said Charles, stepping over to the messenger. The man handed him a letter, collected his fee, and was off again.

Bingley, focused on his journey, stuffed the letter in his pocket. “I am going to Doctor’s Commons now,” he said to his sister.

“Be off with you, then, Charles,” said Gilbert, “we’ll attend to your carriage. It will be all ready for you when you get back.”

Within the hour, Charles had returned with the special license, and was ready to start his journey.

Louisa embraced him, “Godspeed, Charles. Pray tell Mrs. Bennet that we send our sincere condolences, and will wait on her to pay our respects as soon as we are able.”

Gilbert clapped his brother on the back. “Our hearts are with you Charles,” he said. “We are hoping for the best for you and Miss Bennet. I feel in my heart that she will be glad to see you!”

Bingley looked into Gilbert’s face, clasped his brother’s hand for a moment, and then climbed into the carriage. A crack of the driver’s whip, and they were off. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst stood in front of the house, their arms around each other’s waists, and watched as the carriage grew distant before going back inside.

***

Although the recent warm spell had melted the snowpack considerably, the roads had been severely damaged by the long winter. The carriage was forced to go slowly, and there were still some stretches that were almost impassable. On more than one occasion, all the carriage’s occupants had to get out and push.

When at last they reached a smoother stretch of road, Bingley sat back against the cushions and let his mind drift. He recalled the express he had stuffed absentmindedly in his pocket early that morning. He pulled it out and to his surprise, realized the letter had been sent from Pemberley. He could see then that the handwriting was Darcy’s, yet not quite the even hand he remembered.

Bingley stared at the letter.  Here he was, no sooner going directly against his friend’s advice, then he receives a missive from him? _Good God,_ _is the man clairvoyant?_ Charles almost didn’t read the letter, afraid that his overbearing friend might be exhorting him to go on without Miss Bennet as he had before he left London.

With an overwhelming feeling of the rightness of his decision, Bingley decided to read the letter. No matter what Darcy had to say, nothing on Earth could convince him to give up the chance for future happiness with Jane, should she agree to receive him again. He knew from the center of his being that he was doing the right thing. He closed his eyes and sent up a grateful prayer for the advice Hurst had given him when they had sat together way back in December, and how he and Louisa had encouraged him over and over again. He opened the letter.

 

_Dear Charles,_

_My hope is that this letter makes its way to you expeditiously, and that you will waste no time once you understand its message. My friend, I write to apologize for a great wrong I have done you. When last I saw you in London, I had convinced myself that I had done you a great service by telling you that Miss Bennet didn’t return your regard. I have had time to reflect upon that this winter, and I now condemn myself for_ _the fool that I am, and the pride and conceit which caused me to give such mean and faulty advice to you, my friend._

_I won’t endeavor to explain here, but suffice to say that our time spent at Netherfield has been much on my mind as I have been forcibly idled by the violent winter weather we have had. Scenes from our stay there have played out before my mind’s eye over and over. Your Miss Bennet was all that is serene and lovely. Even though she was not overtly demonstrative, I should have seen the regard she had for you._

_I now believe that at the time she was as much in love with you as you were with her. I was blind to it because of my selfish preoccupation with my own concerns. I fear that by my despicable behavior I may have lost your trust and esteem, and while I would deserve that, I most humbly beg your forgiveness, and pray that we can maintain our friendship._

_I now understand that very few people get the chance to have a life companion who they can love and be loved by in return. I am most envious of you. It is a great gift, Charles, and it was wrong of me to discourage you. To live a life filled with such love and joy is something to be greatly desired. I would say to you Charles, if you still feel as deeply for Miss Bennet as you did last November, you must go to her immediately, and not let this chance slip through your fingers. When next I see you, I hope to find you courting your lovely Miss Bennet._

_May God bless you,_

_Fitzwilliam Darcy_

 

Bingley reread the letter several times over to see if he was mistaken in its message. Even though he had made up his mind to court Jane regardless of his friend’s feelings, he was overwhelmed by the sentiments expressed in the letter. Once his anger at Darcy’s meddling passed, he was touched by the humility and frankness of his words, and at his heartfelt apology. These feelings mingled with exultation that he himself was pursuing the right course.

Once this wave of emotion had washed over him, Bingley read the letter again carefully. What had happened to Darcy? Certainly it was something of importance, a life-changing event of some kind. There was an undercurrent of anguish in his words. What could have happened?

Unbidden, an image of Darcy staring intently at Miss Elizabeth in the drawing room at Netherfield, appeared in his mind. Though his thoughts had been only of Jane, he remembered vaguely noting how lovely Miss Elizabeth had looked at the ball, and how … _overheated_ they had both looked when they danced together. _I wonder_ …  It would explain the grimness of his aspect and his short temper when they had all removed to London.

***

It was late afternoon before the carriage rolled through Meryton. Mr. Bingley had the carriage stop at Netherfield to order the surprised butler and housekeeper to open up the house; that he would be spending the night there and possibly a few weeks. His valet, groom, and the footman disembarked at Netherfield. Despite his valet’s entreaties, by this time Bingley was too impatient to consider any refreshment of his apparel or appearance. He jumped back into the carriage, and was off to Longbourn.

                                                                                             ***

Even though winter was relenting, the days were still short, and twilight engulfed the late afternoon. Longbourn house was so quiet, from where Elizabeth sat she could hear every clock in the house ticking.

It had been a difficult, busy day. Her father had breathed his last not quite two days before, and the house had been full of callers for hours.  Now all was silent, the family emotionally exhausted. The Gardiners and the Philips’ had seemingly been everywhere at once, greeting neighbors, directing the servants, soothing Mrs. Bennet when she gave way to shrill lamentation. The rest of the family felt the sadness of it all in different ways.

Mary was reading and rereading passages in the Bible, deriving comfort from her faith. Elizabeth now understood how sincere her faith was, and how when the rest of the family had mocked her pontifications over the years, it had given Mary a structure to live by that her parents had sadly failed to impart. Lydia was quiet and saddened that the bond she had formed with her father had been of such short duration, but grateful that they had formed a true attachment.  Kitty had also drawn closer to her father, and had found new purpose over the course of her father’s illness by caring for her parents, and assisting Jane and Elizabeth when she could. Both Jane and Elizabeth had seen new maturity and strength of character in their younger sisters, and rejoiced in it. They saw the girls still quietly hovering near their mother, and speaking quietly with their neighbors when they called. Her aunts and uncles were also encouraged by the change.

Elizabeth herself was quite numb with sorrow. She recalled how hotly she had argued with her father only hours before he died. Their last conversation had been a quarrel. She had practically snarled at him. She struggled for breath, pacing the room stiffly, her arms wrapped around her own waist as if physically holding herself together.

The unnatural quiet was disturbed by the sound of a carriage approaching at speed. _Oh, no!_ _Who would visit at this hour?_

Jane and Uncle Gardiner had also heard the commotion, and the three of them went through the front door and out into the front garden. A mud-splattered carriage had jerked to a stop, the horses frothing. The occupant did not wait for the coachman to open the door, but sprang out himself. Walking toward them, covered with mud from head to toe, his clothing disarranged, his hair sticking up in untidy clumps, wearing an expression of great agitation, was Charles Bingley.

 

 

 


	6. "I was seriously considering plucking a chicken!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Chapter 6. I did manage to make more progress on it this weekend. I'm so happy that you're enjoying it!

 

 For a long moment, no one spoke. Jane flushed pink, swayed slightly, and for an instant Elizabeth thought she would faint. The eyes of the couple met and they were immediately lost in each other’s gaze. Jane’s fingers itched to smooth his hair. Fighting it, she clasped her hands tightly together.

It was several long seconds before Bingley could compose himself enough to speak to all three of them. “I came as soon as I heard about Mr. Bennet! I am so sorry, so deeply grieved for your loss! I came to offer my services to you all!” Jane and Elizabeth’s stupefaction was profound at seeing Mr. Bingley, but even greater surprises were to come.

“Mr. Bingley?” said Mr. Gardiner, “I confess I am surprised to see you. I was not aware that you were acquainted with my brother’s family!”

“Mr. Gardiner, my brother Hurst put two and two together when you told him of your family’s grief. He realized that your family was one we had become acquainted with last autumn, when I leased a neighboring estate.”

Mr. Bingley’s gaze again met Jane’s. “When we realized who your sorrowing relations were, I knew I must come to offer anything, anything at all I can do to assist. We spent many happy hours in each other’s company in November, when Mr. Bennet was healthy and his old humorous self. Oh, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, how can I serve you?”

Elizabeth, her eyes moving back and forth between Bingley and her uncle, was struggling to digest the stunning information that they were acquainted. “You…how… how do you know each other?” she finally managed to ask.

 Mr. Gardiner, sensing that there was more going on than met the eye, took charge of the conversation. “Mr. Bingley and I were introduced by Mr. Gilbert Hurst, who is an investor in my company. I met Mr. Hurst in December, when we began doing business together. Mr. Hurst introduced us to Mr. Bingley and another gentleman when we met quite by accident at the theater just before Christmastide. Since then, we have become quite close friends with your brother and your charming sister, Mr. Bingley.”

Jane, struggling to take it all in, let a small smile flit over her face, “How wonderful that Mrs. Hurst and Aunt Gardiner have become friends.”

“Yes, and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst wish to extend their condolences to your family,” said Charles earnestly, “They are coming to Netherfield as soon as they can manage it to offer their assistance. Louisa has sent some provisions for you. They are here in the carriage.”

Mrs. Gardiner had by then come out of the house and greeted Mr. Bingley cordially. She called a footman to help the coachman unload the foodstuffs, wine and fabrics, and take them to Mrs. Hill. Mr. Gardiner invited Mr. Bingley to come inside, and they all went into the sitting room.

Mr. Bingley, becoming conscious of his disheveled state, apologized for it and asked if he could see Mrs. Bennet for a few moments before he went on to Netherfield. Jane went to fetch her mother, and shortly came down with Mrs. Bennet and her three remaining daughters. Mrs. Bennet’s face was dry, but the effects of her grief were deeply marked on her countenance. She was bewildered when she saw Mr. Bingley. He sat down next to her and took her hand, speaking gently and quietly to her for a quarter of an hour. She smiled faintly, and thanked him for coming. She seemed calmer, and the effusions that Elizabeth had half feared did not come.

After his talk with Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bingley excused himself for the night and said he would return in the morning. Mr. Gardiner and Jane walked him to the door, and with a few more quiet words, he kissed Jane’s hand and left.

Elizabeth was utterly speechless. She felt that she was in a waking dream. Her dear aunt and uncle were intimate friends with the Hursts? They were friendly acquaintances with Mr. Bingley? And who was the “other gentleman” that her aunt and uncle had enjoyed conversing with at the theater? Could it have been her nocturnal counselor, Mr. Darcy? Hadn’t Papa teased them only two days ago about this very thing? She imagined she heard her father’s dry chuckle from far, far away.

***

The Gardiners, the Phillips and the Bennets had a quiet supper, all of them drained and lost in their own thoughts. Aunt Gardiner showed the girls the dress materials that Mrs. Hurst had sent, and Aunt Philips volunteered to take them to the dressmaker to order mourning clothes. Mrs. Bennet went to bed, with Lydia to help her maid undress and tuck her in, followed shortly by Mary and Kitty. Jane and Elizabeth also made for the stairs when their uncle called them into the parlor.

“Jane, Lizzy,” said Mr. Gardiner, “Did I sense some undercurrents in our conversation earlier? Am I correct in my speculation that there is some sort of history between the Bingleys and the Bennets?”

Elizabeth and Jane exchanged glances. Their aunt studied their faces thoughtfully.

“Lizzy, would Mr. Bingley be by chance the gentleman who stole our Jane’s heart last year? I believe you referred to him in your letter as Mr. A?” she asked gently.

“Mr. A?” said Jane, mystified, staring at her sister.

“A for Amiable,” admitted Elizabeth resignedly. She looked at Jane. “You were so hurt, and I was so angry. I wanted to ask Aunt Gardiner’s advice and describe the entire scenario to her, but I didn’t want to use his name in case he came back. In case we had misunderstood the whole situation. I didn’t want it to reflect badly on him. I used initials for each of the persons I described. Mr. A stood for amiable, Mr. P. stood for proud, and Miss C. stood for….crabapple,” she said, with a defiant lift of her chin.

The corners of Mr. Gardiners’s mouth twitched slightly. “Did you have a pseudonym for Mr. or Mrs. Hurst?” asked Jane.

“No,” said Elizabeth. “I really didn’t have a chance to get to know them. I didn’t think they were party to the decision to leave Netherfield. It does not signify, anyway,” she sighed. “Everything is different now. Being slighted by persons we hardly know seems a very insignificant problem.”

***

With their own trunks packed, the Hursts departed for Netherfield the next morning. Louisa penned a note to Caroline to inform her they would be out of town for a few weeks, and had a footman deliver it to Riverton House. The note traveled from footman to butler to chamber maid, who deposited it on the salver with all the others on Caroline’s deserted dressing table. Louisa had no expectation of hearing from her sister, and truth be told, rather hoped she didn’t. The butler took the knocker off the door, and they were on their way north.

***

The following morning Mr. Bingley returned to Longbourn as soon as could reasonably be called proper. He had felt no little agitation the day before, but getting lost, however briefly, in the depths of Jane’s blue eyes the evening before had strangely calmed him. Now that he had seen her again, he couldn’t stay away. Bingley was encouraged that she had not turned away from him upon his arrival the night before. He arrived at Longbourn by midmorning. After he had been ushered in by Hill, he sought out Mrs. Gardiner. “Mrs. Gardiner, is there anything I may do for your family today?”

Mrs. Gardiner gave him a welcoming smile that belied a mind busy with questions and conjectures. “Perhaps it would calm my sister if you sat with her a little while this morning. I do believe, Mr. Bingley, that your words last evening were soothing to her.” Bingley bowed and made his way to the small sitting room. There the ladies were gathered, sitting in near silence.

He sat down next to Mrs. Bennet and, endeavoring to find an unexceptionable topic, engaged her in discussion about the winter weather. “I spent the winter in town, Mrs. Bennet,” he said quietly, “it was so very cold, the Thames froze over. We heard that it was often stormy here, and even worse to the north.”

“Yes, indeed, Mr. Bingley,” answered Mrs. Bennet, still distracted but rallying to the conversation, “It did snow a great deal, and the roads were often blocked. We received the post only occasionally. There were many days where we were quite confined to the house.”

Jane, sitting across the room trying to concentrate on her embroidery, noticed in the daylight that Mr. Bingley seemed to have lost weight. His face was thinner, and there were lines on either side of his mouth and between his brows that she had never seen before. He was smiling, but not the easy wide smile she remembered. It was careful and… apprehensive.

Bingley, replying to her mother, said, “I had heard that travel was not possible here. I had hoped to ride up to Netherfield after Christmas, but was told that the roads were impassable.” Jane’s heart skipped a beat, and she looked up to meet his gaze. He _had_ planned to return. Elizabeth watched their silent exchange, and a tiny corner of her leaden heart rejoiced.

At that moment, Mr. Gardiner came into the room. “Ladies, our visitors will soon begin to arrive again. It will be necessary to remove to the drawing room. Shall we all go or do you wish to take turns receiving them?” The sisters agreed to start the day together, and then spell each other over the course of the day.

Mrs. Bennet, still shaky, determined to go to her rooms. Elizabeth, who was sitting closest to her, automatically rose to take her mother’s elbow. Mrs. Bennet rudely snatched her arm from Elizabeth’s hand and turned her back to her, refusing to even look at her second daughter. Kitty, giving Elizabeth a sympathetic look, quickly and quietly took her mother’s arm and whisked her quickly out of the room and up the stairs. Elizabeth, two deep red spots burning in the middle of her drawn white cheeks, quickly turned on her heel and walked stiffly out to the back garden.

Nonplussed, Bingley looked at Jane, but when she did not raise her eyes, he moved his wide questioning eyes to Mr. Gardiner. Mr. Gardiner met his gaze and with raised eyebrows mouthed the word “Later.” Then he rose and said aloud, “Come my dear nieces, let us all lean on each other to get through this day.” They filed out into the drawing room.

Again, the house filled with neighbors and old friends, all somberly dressed, speaking in hushed tones. Mr. Bingley proved himself extremely useful, quietly greeting many residents of the neighborhood who were universally surprised to see him. His presence deflected some of the attention of their neighbors from themselves, and all the Bennet sisters began to feel quite grateful to him. He was composed and respectful, fetching refreshments and ushering people in and out of the drawing room. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner found him to be kind, self-effacing, and gentlemanly. They both kept an eye on Jane, who even in her grief tried and failed to keep her questioning eyes from following the gentleman from Netherfield.

***

As the day drew to a close, another carriage pulled up outside Longbourn. This time, it was Gilbert and Louisa Hurst who descended from within. The Gardiners met them with welcoming words, handshakes, and embraces. The girls stood quietly, awkward at the unexpected warmth and concern from the couple they had assumed to be as cold and condescending as Miss Bingley.

Louisa took both Jane’s hands in her own, looking into her eyes. “Oh, Miss Bennet, what words can I say to you? My deepest condolences to you all!” Jane looked into her gray eyes and saw only kindness and sympathy. She had suspected that Louisa was different from her social-climbing sister, but Caroline had so dominated their family party that Jane had never had a chance to become acquainted with her alone.

Louisa looked at Elizabeth and saw that suffering had been etched more deeply on her countenance than that of any of her sisters. Jane had once told Charles that Elizabeth was the closest to their father. Having never truly known her own work-obsessed father, indeed neither of her parents, Louisa could only imagine the depth of Elizabeth’s grief. She shyly ventured to lay her hand softly on Elizabeth’s arm. Elizabeth startled, but did not remove her arm, and forced a small travesty of a smile. Hurst’s eyes followed his wife with admiration for her gentle kindness, feeling somewhat lost for words himself. They all went into the house, where the Hursts briefly paid their respects to Mrs. Bennet, and then left for Netherfield.

Bingley, too, made to take his leave. He bade goodnight to Mrs. Bennet, and then her daughters, saving Jane for last. “I’m sorry you have all had another difficult day, Miss Bennet,” he said seriously. “Mr. Bingley, I must thank you for easing our burden,” replied Jane shyly.

“If it isn’t too much to ask, might I visit your family again tomorrow?” he asked gently. “That would be a great kindness, thank you,” she said, gazing sadly up at him. Bingley kissed her hand and squeezed it, wishing only to take Jane in his arms and hold her tightly.

***

He then sought out Mr. Gardiner, to say goodnight and to discuss how to proceed on the morrow. The two men walked together through the darkness to retrieve his horse from the stable.

“Mr. Bingley,” said Gardiner wearily, “I know you were taken aback by my sister’s treatment of her daughter Elizabeth. Since you are brother to our dear friend Hurst, I feel I can apprise you of that circumstance. Mrs. Bennet has taken it into her head that Elizabeth is to blame for their family’s current dire straits.”

“What? Surely she does not blame Miss Elizabeth for her father’s illness!” Bingley exclaimed.

 “Not exactly,” answered Mr. Gardiner. “Because of the entail, my sister has always suffered great anxiety over her and her daughters’ futures, should something happen to her husband. Last November, Mr. Bennet’s cousin and heir, a Mr. Collins, was received as a guest at Longbourn, and his design was to take one of my nieces for his wife. This prospect was of great satisfaction to my sister, because it precluded any possibility that they would face penury in the case of Mr. Bennet’s death.”

Mr. Gardiner eyed Bingley and continued. “Mr. Collins’ original intention was to offer for Jane, but my sister told him that her affections were already engaged.”

After a pause, he continued. “He then settled on Elizabeth as the future bride of his choice, but she refused his offer, with her father’s approval. Mr. Collins then went on to propose marriage to Miss Charlotte Lucas, who accepted him. They were married in December. Since then, my sister has irrationally chosen to vent the totality of her anxiety and anger solely on Elizabeth.”

Mr. Bingley, his head whirling at Gardiner’s implication, blurted, “I’m acquainted with that peculiar man. I don’t know that I would have let a daughter of mine marry him either! What a terrible thing to do to your own child!” Bingley cried, then instantly regretted it. “Oh! I do beg your pardon, Mr. Gardiner! That was completely inappropriate of me.”

Mr. Gardiner frowned. “I guess it is then inappropriate for me to confess that I agree with you. Elizabeth was her father’s favorite almost from her birth. They shared a bond that I believe my sister came to resent. These last few months been extremely difficult for all the family, but particularly grim for our Lizzy.”

Mr. Gardiner then gave a little shake of his head, as if clearing his mind. “Mr. Bingley, it is growing late, and the day has been long. There is another subject that I would like to speak with you privately about, but it can wait for now. I thank you again and again for your kind concern and generous attention to our family. Will we see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, I am at your service, sir” said Bingley. They shook hands, and Bingley mounted his horse and left for Netherfield.

***

When Bingley arrived back at Netherfield, the Hursts were seated in the saloon. Louisa rose to meet her brother and embraced him. “How is the family faring, Charles?” she asked.

“Overwhelmed, grieving, sick with worry…  they are struggling. Their relatives are doing all they can. I mean to offer them the use of the dower house tomorrow or the next day. I must first see what condition it is in.”

“Oh, Charles, Gilbert and I will do that!” exclaimed Louisa. “I have already spoken with Mrs. Nicholls, and she and some of her staff will come with us to take a look at it in the morning. It is more important for you to spend your time with Miss Bennet and her family.”

“How did Miss Bennet receive you, brother?” asked Gilbert. Bingley looked wistful. “I believe she was happy to see me,” he said tentatively. “I have not spoken to her of my feelings yet. It simply isn’t the proper time, and we haven’t had a chance to speak alone. Perhaps when the funeral is over. Your friend Gardiner told me today that he wishes to speak with me about something, and I believe he will ask about my intentions toward Jane.”

***

Darcy was striding from the house to the great barns. As soon as he stepped outside he felt the change in the air; slightly warmer, with the scent of moist earth instead of snow. The sky was still overcast, but the clouds were lighter and higher in the sky. As he gazed upward, he saw some thin places where the sun might actually break through. His steps slowed, then stopped. He had almost forgotten what warm air felt like. He inhaled deeply, relieved and smiling. It had begun to feel like the winter would never end. The roads out of Pemberley had stayed mostly clear since the most recent round of snow removal. There had been a few light snowfalls, but no drifting. The post had not yet begun to arrive, so perhaps the main highways were still closed. 

Still, he could most likely travel somewhere if he wished.  The prospect was liberating. Where would he go? London, where the season was probably gathering momentum? Absolutely not. Hertfordshire? A picture of Longbourn manor appeared in his mind. No. He had already had that conversation with himself. No, it would be best if he stayed put at Pemberley, at least until the post started arriving regularly. If the weather stayed warm, he and his cousin Richard would be traveling to Kent in a few weeks’ time for their annual visit to Rosings. Darcy continued his walk to the barns, his habitual frown now firmly back in place.

***

Caroline gazed out of the window of her rooms at Abbotsford Park, as Bertha laid out her evening clothes. It was a lovely park, known throughout the kingdom for its great antiquity and history. The house and grounds practically oozed old family and old money. She had jumped at Sophronia’s invitation, even though the season continued in London. Having cut a dash in society, with Mr. Darcy safely tucked away at Pemberley and Charles permanently removed from Hertfordshire, she could afford to relax.

She frowned. She wished Charles would make haste and find their family a suitable estate. Netherfield was of course out of the question. Perhaps when the weather improved, Charles’ agent could earn his wages for a change and find another manor for their family.

Caroline could no longer be content with being plain Miss Bingley. She needed to be Miss Bingley of Estate-name-here. That was how all the most tonnish ladies were introduced. A thought struck her. Charles had been looking for an estate within a days’ drive from town. Why didn’t he look for an estate in Derbyshire? Then she could be near Darcy, even before they married.

She refocused on the view outside her window. It was a beautiful estate, but it was no Pemberley. She smirked. When she married Darcy, her estate would put Abbotsford Park to shame. 

***

By the fourth day after Mr. Bennet’s death, the number of visitors had dwindled to nothing. The Gardiners, the Philips’, Mrs. Bennet and her daughters gathered in the sitting room with the parson, Reverend Blythe.

“The family mausoleum has been opened,” he reported, “I understand you will be using your own horses and wagon for the funeral procession?” Except for monosyllables, Mrs. Bennet was quiet. She seemed to have run out of energy for hysterics.

“Yes, we’ll use the estate’s horses and wagon,” said Mr. Philips. “And here is a list of the mourners. Myself, Mr. Gardiner, Sir William Lucas, Mr. Goulding, Mr. Purvis, Mr. Long, along with Colonel Forster and Captain Denny will act as mourners. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst have also begged to be included as mourners, if you ladies agree.”

“Yes, of course,” said Jane, coloring slightly, “Those gentlemen honor my father with their presence.”

***

As the details were concluded, Elizabeth slipped away to the drawing room. She felt a wild impulse to look upon her father’s face one more time, but instantly rejected the notion. Better to remember him as he had been in life. She wished that she had studied drawing, so that she might have taken a likeness of him.

Standing by the coffin, she whispered her goodbye, and then went out the door for a walk. Frozen in her grief, she could not cry. She did not feel the waxing strength of the sun or smell the warming earth. She walked through mud and dirty slush, oblivious to her cold, wet feet, or even which direction she was going.

The sound of hoofbeats came to her ears. It was Mr. Bingley, on his way to Longbourn. When he saw her, he reigned in his horse and dismounted. Gazing at her with concern, he recalled the day she had walked to Netherfield. She had looked so breathless and radiant that day. Now she was shivering, drained, and forlorn.

“Miss Elizabeth! Where is your cloak!” Mr. Bingley exclaimed. Elizabeth looked down and realized for the first time that she had left the house without her cloak. Her feet and the hem of her gown were soaked, and she was shivering in the chilly wind. Mr. Bingley quickly took off his greatcoat, and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Miss Elizabeth, I am taking you home! You’ll make yourself ill!”

Without so much as a by-your-leave he grasped her by the waist and threw her up in the saddle. He trotted rapidly alongside his horse’s head as they turned toward Longbourn. When they arrived, he lifted her down from the saddle and walked her into the house.

Jane, Lydia, and Mrs. Gardiner met them just inside the door. Mr. Bingley, standing behind Elizabeth, met Jane’s eyes. “Your sister was out walking and I am concerned that she may have taken a chill,” he said.

Elizabeth protested, “It was stupid of me, I hadn’t realized that the wind was so cold. I’m quite all right, really.”

Jane pushed aside her shock and said briskly, “Lizzy, back to bed with you.”

“Let me tuck you in, Lizzy,” exclaimed Lydia, “Just like you used to do for me. And I’ll bring you some tea.” Elizabeth quickly acquiesced. She was embarrassed and wanted to get away from the worried faces surrounding her. She gave Mr. Bingley his coat, along with her thanks, and allowed her youngest sister to bully her upstairs and into a flannel nightgown.

Mr. Bingley stood with Jane and Mrs. Gardiner, watching them climb the stairs. He looked at Mrs. Gardiner, “I found her about almost half a mile from here, just wandering. She was shivering.”

 Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, “Oh, thank you so much for bringing her home, Mr. Bingley! We are all very worried about her.”

There was a pause. “Can I offer you some refreshment, Mr. Bingley?” asked Jane. “That would be very welcome, Miss Bennet,” he smiled.

 

***

They were all sitting together in the parlor when Mr. Gardiner came in. “Ah, Mr. Bingley,” he said, “I was hoping we would see you today. May I take you away from the ladies for a while? I would like to discuss the plans for tomorrow with you.” Mr. Bingley rose from his chair and with a bow to the ladies, followed Mr. Gardiner out of the room.

The two men went into Mr. Bennet’s library. Mr. Gardiner gestured Mr. Bingley to a chair, and they both sat down. “I wanted to tell you that the funeral is taking place tomorrow morning. Will you and Hurst be able to be here at 10:00?”

“Yes, of course,” answered Bingley, and then went on, “Mr. Gardiner, last evening you mentioned that there was something else you wished to speak about. I think I may know what is on your mind, and I would be glad to answer any questions you may have.”

Mr. Gardiner smiled. “Yes,” he said, “and I appreciate your frankness. Mr. Bingley, your arrival two days ago surprised the entire family. I think I can say we are all very glad to see you, and deeply grateful. You have been a great help and comfort to all the Bennet family. I must say, though, that I would be remiss in my duties to my late brother’s family if I did not ask you what your intentions are in regard to my niece, Jane.”

Bingley smiled. At last he could make his feelings known. He liked Mr. Gardiner, and he wanted not only to tell him what his hopes regarding Jane were, but also to sound him out about what he might do as part of the Bennet family.

“Mr. Gardiner,” said Bingley, “I think that in order to answer that question, I will have to tell you the history of my acquaintance with the Bennet family, and with Miss Bennet in particular.” Mr. Gardiner nodded at him to proceed.

“I had been looking to purchase an estate. I took a year’s lease on Netherfield, an estate three miles from here. Last October my family and I came to spend time at the estate to look it over, to consider it for purchase. Accompanying me were Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, our sister Caroline, and my particular friend Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Mr. Darcy has been managing his family’s estate for several years now, and he came as my special guest. We spent many hours riding throughout Netherfield, so that he could advise me as to whether to purchase the estate or look for another property.”

Mr. Bingley paused and thought for a moment, “Mr. Bennet visited us shortly after our arrival and offered us his welcome to the neighborhood. A few days later, our party attended an assembly in Meryton.” Bingley’s eyes glowed. “That’s where I first set eyes on Miss Jane Bennet. She has been continually in my thoughts ever since.” He paused again, his eyes fixed on a vision that Mr. Gardiner could not see.

Just as Mr. Gardiner was about to recall him, Bingley gave a little start, and continued his monologue. “We spent many happy hours getting to know the neighborhood. There were parties and assemblies and dinners. Then Miss Bennet came to Netherfield for tea with my sisters, and fell ill during her visit. She stayed with us for five days. That was when I decided to ask her father for permission to court her. Miss Elizabeth also came to nurse her sister. Two weeks later we held a ball for the neighborhood. My sisters planned it, and it was a lovely evening! By then I had promised myself that I would make Miss Bennet an offer. The day after the ball I traveled to London on business. While I was there, I also discussed with my solicitor a settlement for Miss Bennet upon our marriage.”

Gardiner’s eyebrows shot up. “You hadn’t yet proposed, or even asked her father for permission to court her, yet you were setting up a marriage settlement for her?”

Bingley’s face turned scarlet. “Mr. Gardiner, I can only say that I was very ardently in love. I still am, but the past few months have taught me to be less impulsive.”

“Pray continue, Mr. Bingley.”

“Before I could return to Netherfield, my family returned to town. Mr. Darcy met me at my club, where I was staying. We went to the Hursts’ townhouse, where Caroline and Darcy sat me down to talk about my feelings for Miss Bennet.”

Mr. Bingley flushed, clasping his hands tightly together. “My sister Caroline was rather upset about some conversation she had heard at the ball. She overheard some talk, particularly from Mrs. Bennet, about a marriage between Miss Bennet and myself, as if it had already been agreed upon. I had not been circumspect about my feelings for Miss Bennet with my family or my friend, and they were troubled by my attachment to the family.

Bingley looked at Mr. Gardiner sheepishly. “Social standing is of exaggerated importance to Caroline, Mr. Gardiner.”

_Ahh._ _Miss Crabapple, I presume._ Mr. Gardiner took pity on Bingley’s discomfort, and completed his thought for him, commenting wryly, “Your sister did not believe that my niece was of sufficient rank and fortune for you, am I correct?”

“Yes, that is the gist of it. She also did not believe that Miss Bennet shared my feelings, and was merely endeavoring to contract a beneficial marriage for herself and her family. Mr. Darcy’s concern was that he did not see from observing Miss Bennett’s behavior that she returned my feelings.”

Bingley met the older man’s gaze. “Mr. Gardiner, my grandfather was the son of a blacksmith in Yorkshire. He grew up in the shop. When he was a young man he invented a machine for combing wool for the weaving mills. It was a very successful invention that is the foundation of my family’s fortune. He and my father built our family business and later diversified and increased our investments. My father’s life wish was to see the family elevated to the rank of the gentry.”

“Later, when I thought about it, I saw how hypocritical it was for Caroline to condemn Mrs. Bennet for wishing her daughters to marry well, as she pushed me to form an alliance with Mr. Darcy’s sister to raise our own family’s standing! At the time, however, I was crushed. Two people I trusted were telling me that I was fooling myself about Miss Bennet’s feelings, when I had already set my heart on marrying her. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Within a fortnight of that evening, Darcy had left town and Caroline had moved in with other friends. Consequently, Gilbert and Louisa and I spent a large part of our time together during the winter, as we were often confined indoors. They encouraged me to follow my own heart instead of relying on the opinions of others.”

Bingley raised his head to look squarely at Mr. Gardiner. “I’ve been thinking of Miss Bennet all winter, sir, and I wish to marry her, if she will have me.” His then looked abashed. “Perhaps, sir, I must ask your permission to court her first?”

Mr. Gardiner looked at Bingley with compassion. “Mr. Bingley, I believe you to be a respectable man, and through your sister and brother-in-law I know you to be kind, generous, and amiable. I cannot make any promises about my niece’s feelings, but let us say that I give my permission and blessing for you and Jane to find your own way together, and I wish you both great joy.”

Mr. Bingley visibly relaxed. “I hope to come to an agreement with Ja.., I mean Miss Bennet, and I also wish to offer my assistance in arranging for the family to find new living quarters. There is a dower house on the Netherfield estate, Mr. Gardiner. I hold the lease through September. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters are most welcome to live there until we can find more permanent accommodations for them. I have members of my staff cleaning and airing out the house as we speak. Louisa and Gilbert are overseeing the work, and they believe they can have it ready the day after tomorrow.”

Mr. Gardiner sat back, his eyes wide. “Mr. Bingley, you astound me. You would seemingly solve the most difficult of all our problems in one stroke.  I hope we can soon count you as a member of the family.”

It was by then midday, and Mrs. Hill had set out a luncheon. Mrs. Gardiner urged Bingley to join the family, and he did not need to be asked twice. He sat between Mrs. Gardiner and Jane. Mr. Gardiner described to him the plans for the funeral on the morrow, and he agreed to relay them to Mr. Hurst. “Is Miss Elizabeth still asleep?” he asked Jane.

“Yes, I believe so. She needs the rest. I can never thank you enough, Mr. Bingley.”

***

Late that afternoon, Bingley wended his way back to Netherfield. He rode slowly, the reins slack, his horse at a walking pace. He was deep in thought. When should he speak to Jane? How long should he take to court her? How much should he tell her of why he hadn’t returned to Netherfield in November? How would she respond to a proposal? Was it even within the bounds of propriety, so soon after Mr. Bennet’s death? _Damn propriety,_ _I just want to care for my Jane!_

When Bingley walked into the saloon at Netherfield, Louisa and Gilbert welcomed him. Charles sat down and accepted the glass of wine that Louisa poured for him. He sipped it and sighed. “Gilbert, we will need to be at Longbourn by 10:00 tomorrow morning for the funeral procession. Louisa, would you care to come with us to Longbourn and stay with the ladies?” he asked as he settled into an armchair.

“Yes, Charles, I do wish to be there,” she said. “I would like to spend some more time with the family, especially Miss Bennet. Perhaps I can be of some assistance to Madeline as well.”

“How did you find the dower house today? Will it be possible to make it fit for habitation?” asked Charles.

Hurst nodded. “The house is very sound and the doors and windows are tight. There were no broken windowpanes. The chimneys were cleaned after the last inhabitants left, and there were no birds’ nests in them that I could see. The roof looks very well and the kitchen is more than adequate for a small household. I didn’t see any sign of animals inside other than mice. Truly, all it needs is a thorough cleaning. Mrs. Nicholls brought three maids and two stout young fellows from the farm, and they have already made very good progress.” 

Louisa added, “It is a pretty house! The furniture was well protected. Mrs. Nicholls and I took the covers off. Everything needs to be dusted and scrubbed, of course, but I daresay it will make a cozy and comfortable home for the Bennets until they find something permanent. Charles, you should have seen Gilbert beating the rugs today! He raised an enormous cloud of dust!”

Bingley gave a shout of laughter. “Hurst! You? Beating the rugs?”

Mr. Hurst colored a bit but entered into the lively spirit of the discussion. “Once I had finished inspecting the condition of the house, it seemed rather silly to be standing around watching the work go on around me. I had a revolutionary thought: perhaps a gentleman should be useful once in a while. Not to mention, Louisa was washing the china. I couldn’t let her have all the fun! Besides, it gave the servants something to gossip about.”

At this point, the three of them were helpless with laughter. “Mrs. Nicholls didn’t know what to make of us!” gasped Louisa, wiping her eyes. “Seriously, Charles, it is a lovely house, and Mrs. Nicholls thinks it can be made ready in two days.”

“That’s good news,” said Charles. His face became somber. “I have spoken to Mr. Gardiner about the house, and he is pleased with the idea.” He paused and the continued, “He has also given his blessing for me to court Miss Bennet with the idea of marriage. Now, I have to decide when it will be the right time to bring the subject up to her.”

“That decision must be made with care, Charles,” agreed Gilbert. “The Bennets are presently living through the worst time in their lives.”  

“In any event, I cannot think about offering for Miss Bennet tomorrow. It will be a long difficult day. I’m going to bed, and I suggest you do the same,” sighed Charles.

***

The day that Mr. Bennet was laid to rest dawned sunny with a gentle spring breeze, in contrast to the gray, leaden spirits of his family. Mr. Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst arrived at Longbourn by half past nine, where they were greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Mrs. Bennet and four of her daughters were sitting in the parlor.

Elizabeth was huddled in her father’s old leather chair in his library, wearing his favorite coat over her black gown. She was struggling with the fact that her father’s remains would shortly leave Longbourn; where he had been born, lived, and died; forever. She heard the Netherfield party arrive, and a few minutes later, the undertaker and Reverend Blythe were at the door.

She wished her imaginary friend was there to put his arm around her and walk her through the day, but she had been unable to conjure him up. In her sorrow; her dreams, her only escape, had dried up. _Just as well._ _Better to face reality._ Steeling herself, she hung up her father’s coat, gently smoothing the shoulders, and went to greet their company.

The gentlemen mourners gathered in the drawing room, and helped carry the coffin to the wagon parked outside the front door, bedecked in black. Black ostrich plumes had been fastened to the horses’ heads. The coffin was loaded carefully in the wagon, and the walk to the church began.  Two dozen or so men joined the procession; tenants of Longbourn, neighbors, tradesmen from Meryton, and a few of the officers who had enjoyed the hospitality of the Bennets or Philips’ in the past. They all wished to honor the man they had known for so many years.

Lady Lucas, Maria Lucas, and Mrs. Philips joined the ladies at Longbourn. There was little conversation as the ladies spent the morning preparing refreshments for the mourners.

The tiny church at Longbourn was an ancient thick-walled stone building of Saxon origin, with a slightly more recent round Norman tower. The gentlemen sat together in the small sanctuary listening to the familiar words of the funeral service. After the service, the men of the village left, leaving the Longbourn party to stay for the committal of Mr. Bennet’s remains to the family mausoleum.

Bingley and Hurst were fascinated by the mausoleum. There had been Bennets at Longbourn for over four hundred years, many of them distinguished in the military, in the natural sciences, philosophy, and religion. Longbourn was a small estate, but the family had a venerable history. Hurst frowned. _If only Caroline could see this, the little snob._

After the internment, the gentlemen returned to Longbourn. They took their refreshment in silence, the events of the day overwhelming any conversation.

Finally, feeling that something had to be done to break the silence, Mrs. Gardiner spoke. “One of my favorite memories of my brother Bennet was when I was first introduced to my husband’s family. We had come to visit Longbourn and I was rather nervous. I wanted my husband’s sisters to approve of me. Mr. Bennet took me aside and told me that if I wished to gain the benediction of Edward’s sisters, all I needed to do was bring them some fripperies to decorate their bonnets. He said they were especially fond of feathers.  Then he looked at me with one very arched brow. At first I didn’t realize that he was funning me. I had not come to know his _peculiar_ sense of humor! Of course I had brought nothing of that sort of thing with me! I was seriously considering plucking a chicken!”

There was a moment’s silence, and then Mr. Philips chuckled. His chuckle turned into a laugh, and then a roaring guffaw. Within seconds, almost everyone had joined in.

Mrs. Philips spoke next of her brother-in-law. “He was such a handsome fellow, and he was so smitten with Fanny! Our papa said that if he was going to spend so much time at our house, that he would charge him rent!”

Kitty recounted the story of the time their father had brought home an ill-tempered pony so the girls could learn to ride. “His name was Jasper, and all he would do was walk under low branches so he could scrape us right off his back!” The memories and stories, happy, sad and in between, had begun to flow. The girls begin to smile and a few tears began to fall, with the exception of Elizabeth, who sat slightly apart from her family. She smiled slightly, but her eyes were staring a thousand miles away.

Finally, Mrs. Bennet spoke. Her voice was uncharacteristically soft. “I had admired Thomas since I was a girl. I did not think anyone from Longbourn estate would even notice a solicitor’s daughter. I had assumed I would probably marry an officer. One summer evening, the family at Netherfield gave a grand ball, and the neighborhood was invited. He danced with me in the opening set, and then the supper set. I felt as if I was floating. The next morning, he visited my father at his office and asked if he could court me.” Her face was wet and her eyes were glowing as she spoke, unfocused as if she was staring through time. Her mouth curved into a little smile. “It was magic,” she sighed.

The girls stared at her, it never having occurred to them that their parents had ever been young and in love. The reminiscences continued until late in the afternoon, when Cook prepared a light supper. Shortly after, the Philips’ and the Hursts took their leave.

As Mr. Bingley prepared to leave that evening, Jane walked him to the door. “Miss Bennet, do you think you and Miss Elizabeth would consent to accompanying Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and myself on a walk tomorrow? My sister and brother-in-law did not see much of the countryside last time we were here.” asked Bingley with a smile.

“I would like that very much, and I think it would be very good for Lizzy,” she said. “What time would you like to go?” “Is half past nine too early?” he asked. “That would work well, I think,” Jane considered. “A little late for Lizzy, and perhaps a little early for Mr. Hurst?” They laughed together, and he took her hand and kissed it. “I will look forward to it,” he said, smiling into her eyes.

 

 

 

 


	7. "My thoughts have been of you alone"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we have come this far, I'll give you a little background on this story. It is essentially complete; I worked on it off and on over the course of three years. It was originally much longer, with a much more involved subplot about Lady Sophronia, the Baron, and their story. (Brevity is not my strength, and it is one of the things I most admire about others' writing.) I've gone through and done lots of editing, but still find odd little fragments and loose ends that need to be dealt with. 
> 
> Here is Chapter 7, I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 7

 

The next morning, the Netherfield party arrived at Longbourn as Jane and Elizabeth were finishing their breakfast.  When the Hursts and Bingley came in the door, they stood talking for few minutes about which paths were still too muddy, and what views were the most scenic. The Gardiners chatted with the group for a few minutes. A course was agreed upon, the girls found their cloaks and boots and they departed. Hurst looked back at the Gardiners and made an exaggerated wink as he pulled the door closed behind him.

Edward and Madeline turned to each other and laughed. “That was evidence of a plot, my dear,” said Edward. “I believe today is the day that Mr. Bingley will see if he can win Jane’s heart back, with the covert assistance of Gilbert and Louisa, of course.”

“That should not be difficult for him,” said Madeline. “I don’t think he ever lost Jane’s heart. I think they have both held each other’s hearts for several months now.”

***

The walking party set out for Oakham Mount, where the path was on higher ground and least likely to  be muddy. The sun was shining, and Louisa marveled aloud at the succession of fine spring days when the winter had been so relentlessly cold and stormy. Dirty, ragged snow drifts remained in deep shade, but thin, bright blades of new grass were putting their heads above the soil, and pussy willows were in bloom.

The path was not wide enough for five people to walk together, so they fell naturally into three and two. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst walked alongside Elizabeth, with Jane and Mr. Bingley behind them. Jane and Charles were immediately lost in conversation; neither of them conscious of the scenery or even of their companions. Soon they were falling behind.

Mr. Hurst grinned at Elizabeth and Louisa. “Ladies, perhaps we should pick up our pace a bit. In my opinion, Charles and Miss Bennet need as much privacy as propriety will allow.”

Louisa laughed. “Miss Elizabeth, I must apologize for my husband! If I may be frank, he wishes to nurture a fledgling courtship.”  

Elizabeth had noticed the easy, affectionate interaction between the Hursts since they had returned to Netherfield. She marveled at the obvious change, but of course did not know them well enough to inquire. Now, as they walked along, Elizabeth did not feel up to chatting, and so appreciated their conversation as well as their sense of humor.

 “Laugh if you will my dear, but Charles was very melancholy without Miss Bennet over the winter, and we will be doing him a great favor to let him have her to himself for a while. Do you think you can help us with our plot, Miss Elizabeth?” Elizabeth, doing her best to enter the spirit of the exchange, arranged her face into a smile and agreed to walk a little faster.

***

Mr. Bingley inhaled the spring air. It was such a beautiful morning, yet he knew that Jane was suffering. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as they walked.  _How shall I start? What shall I say?_ These thoughts had kept him awake during the night.  He decided to simply say what was in his heart; that was what he wanted her to know.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for her hand and took it, winding it through his arm. “Miss Bennet, how are your spirits today? The last several days have been so difficult for you, indeed the entire winter. I wish I had made a greater effort to come to Netherfield over the winter. If I had known that your father was ill, I would have moved Heaven and Earth to get here!”

Jane startled when Mr. Bingley took her hand, but her arm curled around his felt so right that she did not protest.  “Thank you Mr. Bingley,” she answered, trying to keep her voice calm, “Your presence has made the last few days bearable, not just for me but for my family. You will become weary of hearing my thanks, but I cannot express them enough.”

“I am happy to have alleviated your family’s pain in any way. However, Miss Bennet, I must tell you truthfully, my thoughts have been of you alone. You have been constantly on my mind since I left Netherfield last November. “

Jane’s heart leaped. She attempted to form a sentence. “Oh! I … I thought.., that is, your sister,… Miss Bingley, …. Oh, Mr. Bingley,… your sister wrote me a letter and said you were never coming back. She said you were busy and happy in London and had no desire to return! She said you preferred the company of Miss Darcy!” Jane’s voice was wavering, and she was trying desperately not to cry.

 Mr. Bingley stopped walking and turned to face her, taking her hands in his. “Miss Bennet, when I left Netherfield for London last autumn I intended to return within a few days. After that magic night at the ball, I had intended to return and ask if you would consider a courtship with me. Before I could return, my family and Mr. Darcy had quit Netherfield and followed me to London.  Caroline told me in no uncertain terms that you did not return my regard. Mr. Darcy said he could see no evidence of any particular feeling you might have for me either. My hopes were crushed, but I had always trusted them both and I believed them. I was so miserable I didn’t know what to do.”

“But then, several days later, my brother Hurst told me that I should trust my own heart. Shortly after, the roads had closed and I could not travel to Hertfordshire. It was when I heard of your father’s passing that I had to come no matter what! Miss Bennet … Jane! Oh, Jane! Can you ever forgive me?”

Jane looked up into his anguished face. “Oh Mr. Bingley, I missed you! I tried not to think of you, especially with my father so ill, but I couldn’t put you out of my mind. I dreamed of you. There is nothing to forgive. You have done me no wrong. Although,” she looked up at him with a wobbly smile, “Perhaps one could wish that you weren’t such a modest man, Charles.”

Bingley drew her into his embrace, laughing, almost crying himself. “Jane, marry me! Please say you will marry me!”

He stopped abruptly, his face flaming. “Oh dash it! I was going to ask for a courtship first!” he exclaimed, as Jane laughed and buried her face in his shoulder.

His smile faded and he looked at her intently. ”Jane, can you be happy with such a silly man as I am?” She raised her eyes to his. “I know that I cannot be happy without you, you silly man. Yes, with all my heart, I will marry you!” They stood for a moment as if trapped in a spell, and then Bingley bent his head to kiss his true love, and she turned her tear-stained face up to meet his.

***

Farther along the path, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth had reached the summit of Oakham Mount. Mr. Hurst breathed deeply and took in the view, the trees showing a pale green haze of budding leaves.

”Miss Elizabeth, this had been a lovely walk! The fresh air and the woods remind me of when I was a boy, rambling through the woods on our family’s estate. Even if our design wasn’t to throw Miss Bennet and Bingley together, I would have enjoyed this immensely. Louisa, dear,” he said to his wife, taking her hand.  “Perhaps we should spend some time at Somerleigh Park this summer.” Louisa took his arm, smiling, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

Elizabeth looked at them with some mystification. “I am glad you have enjoyed it, Mr. Hurst,” she said.

Louisa turned to look at Elizabeth and noted her confusion. _Perhaps a little tete-a-tete is in order._  “Miss Elizabeth, may I ask if you would point out some of the landmarks from here?”

Hurst, taking in the scenery before him, turned to the ladies, “I hope you ladies won’t mind if I walk on a bit farther?”

“Not at all,” said Elizabeth. She and Mrs. Hurst stood next to each other, looking out over the valley. Elizabeth pointed out a few natural features, and Louisa duly admired the view, waiting for an opening for the conversation.

Within a few minutes, there was a pause, and Louisa turned to her walking companion. “Miss Elizabeth, I wouldn’t blame you if you are curious about the change in my husband’s demeanor since we last met in the autumn.”

Elizabeth colored a bit, and then admitted, “I have to confess, Mrs. Hurst, I have noticed the difference in both of you, and I have wondered at it.” She looked at Louisa with the barest hint of her old humor in her eyes. “I don’t know you well enough to go prying into your affairs, you know.”

Mrs. Hurst chuckled, “Please call me Louisa, my dear, I have a feeling we will be family in the near future.”

Elizabeth replied, “Oh, yes, thank you, and you must call me Elizabeth.”

Louisa considered the best way to tell her story. “Elizabeth, our marriage was something of a business proposition between Gilbert and my father. Neither of us had any expectations of affection. Yet, each of us began privately to admire the other. After observing Charles’ deep regard for your sister, Gilbert decided we needed to begin at the beginning, and have a courtship.” Louisa’s eyes were bright and her mouth curved. “We have discovered great happiness with each other, and we both feel so very fortunate.”

Elizabeth regarded her seriously. “I am very happy for you both,” she said sincerely.

“Of course, it helped that Caroline has been staying with friends, and we had our home to ourselves,” laughed Louisa mischievously.

Elizabeth was reminded of her conviction that Miss Bingley had been responsible for keeping her brother from returning from London. Dare she ask such a difficult question of Miss Bingley’s own sister? She hesitated, and the two ladies stood in uncertain silence a few moments longer.

Finally, Elizabeth decided to plunge in while she had the courage. “Louisa, please pardon me for asking this question, but I find that I must. It has been bothering me for some time. Your sister wrote to Jane in December and told her that your brother would not be returning to Netherfield. She implied that he was about to embark on a courtship with Miss Darcy.”

Louisa stared at Elizabeth. “She did? Oh no! Oh dear! How that must have hurt Jane! I am so sorry! The truth is that Caroline told Charles that your sister did not return his affections, and that he was making a fool of himself. Of course, if you know Caroline, you know that she doesn’t concern herself with the feelings of others. It grieves me to say that, Elizabeth, but Caroline wanted Charles to court Miss Darcy because of her aspirations for our family. Charles is so modest that he believed her, as well as his friend Mr. Darcy, who only said that Jane was so reserved that he couldn’t tell what her feelings were.”

 At that, Louisa crossed her fingers behind her back, knowing she skirted the truth.  “My brother spent a very melancholy winter thinking of her. It was Gilbert who first told him he should listen to his own heart, and of course I agreed. Later, however Charles did receive a letter from Mr. Darcy with an apology, urging him to seek out your sister.”

Elizabeth was stunned. Mr. Darcy had apologized? He encouraged Mr. Bingley to court Jane? Could she have made a more grievous error?

As if hearing her thoughts, Louisa mused, “I don’t think any of us gave the neighborhood a good first impression when we stayed here last autumn. Except Charles, of course. Gilbert and I were each too lonely to be friendly. Caroline was simply too…, well, herself. Also, from what I understand, something had recently happened within Mr. Darcy’s family that had caused him great pain. He is such a private man, that he didn’t even speak of it with Charles. We only knew that something had happened that had deeply shaken him, and made him more reserved than usual.”

Remembered scenes of the autumn unspooled through Elizabeth’s mind. _Oh, worse and worse! The ill-mannered things I said to him! Impertinent, wretched girl!_  

She quickly changed the subject. “If Jane and Mr. Bingley begin a courtship, will Miss Bingley cause any problems for them?”

“I don’t think so,” Louisa said. “Charles is the head of the family after all, and I daresay he has become stronger this year. He won’t give her up, if she will have him.”

Elizabeth decided she liked the new happy, openhearted Louisa, and relaxed slightly. “I think she will. Jane was heartbroken when she received that letter. She had completely given your brother her heart, and once Jane’s heart is given, she doesn’t take it back easily.”

The two women heard Mr. Hurst coming back up the path, and turned to meet him. “Well, ladies, shall we see if we can find our tardy companions? They should have had enough time to plan their wedding by now.”

***

Charles and Jane continued walking, neither of them aware of or caring where they were.  Her arm was wound around his, and his free hand held hers tightly.  

A shadow passed over her face. “Charles, won’t Miss Bingley be unhappy with our marriage? Or will our marriage damage your friendship with Mr. Darcy?”

Charles smiled at her. “Caroline’s opinion does not matter. Darcy’s opinion does not matter either, but I neglected to tell you that just as I was leaving for Longbourn, I received a letter from him. He apologized to me and said he felt he had been mistaken about your feelings. He urged me to go to you and see if you still felt the same!”

“Oh, Charles! I’m so glad! I know his friendship is important to you. Lizzy was utterly convinced that Mr. Darcy was behind your family’s removal from Netherfield. She made him out to be a cold-hearted villain! I’ll be glad to tell her that he isn’t against our marriage.”

A few minutes later, Elizabeth and the Hursts came into view. When they saw Charles and Jane walking together arm in arm, they exchanged smiles.

***

The walking party returned to Longbourn, looking forward to sharing the news. Charles and Jane immediately sought out Mrs. Bennet to announce their intentions.

Elizabeth, knowing the conversation would take a little time, wondered briefly where to take the Hursts. She was not yet ready to sit in the drawing room with its fresh memories of her father’s coffin lying in state. Elizabeth looked at Louisa and said, “Perhaps we can walk for a few minutes in the garden, until they are ready to make an announcement.” The three walking companions slipped out the back door for almost a quarter of an hour, until they heard Mr. Gardiner calling them inside.

They entered the parlor to find tearful smiles on both Jane and Mrs. Bennet. Their mother was not quite her old self, but she was happily telling Lydia, Mary, and Kitty that they were to move into the dower house at Netherfield. Joy and love had momentarily taken the place of grief. The sense of relief was palpable.

“Are you going to wait until our mourning is over to set a date?” asked Lydia. Charles cleared his throat and exchanged glances with Jane. “We’ve decided, with the approval of Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner, to marry next week.”

“Next week!” exclaimed Elizabeth.

“I know that the propriety of marrying so quickly after your father’s funeral is dubious, to say the least, but I believe I can be more useful to my new family if we make our union official,” replied Bingley.

“What about reading the banns?” asked Kitty.

At this, Mr. Gardiner chuckled and Bingley colored. “I got a special license before I left London,” he admitted.

The sisters gasped in surprise. “Actually, Gilbert suggested it to me when I was preparing to come to Longbourn.” Every face turned to look at him, and it was Hurst’s turn to redden.

Louisa took her husband’s hand. “And you see? It was a good idea!” she said with a wide smile.

Jane began to laugh, and soon everyone had joined in. Mrs. Bennet and Jane spoke about the wedding, while Mrs. Hurst, the Gardiners, and the sisters began to make plans for the move. For the first time in months, the house rang with laughter and conversation.

***

Early the next morning, the Bennets took their first steps toward building their new lives. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner announced over breakfast that they were needed in London. “Fanny, I need to see the children, and Edward needs to attend to some business,” said Madeline. “We’ll leave tomorrow and be back in time for the wedding,” seconded Edward.

“I understand,” said Mrs. Bennet. “I don’t know what we would have done without you,” she went on, the tears beginning to flow once more. Mr. Gardiner embraced his sister. “We will always be here when you need us,” he said, “and now you have us, the Philips’, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst to help you as well. We are all family now, my dear.”

***

Mrs. Philips arrived from Meryton, and was informed of Jane and Bingley’s happy news. The Netherfield party arrived shortly after, and the planning began in earnest. While Jane, Mr. Bingley, and Mrs. Bennet sat down to talk about the wedding, Mrs. Gardiner gathered up the sisters and they went to sit together in the parlor. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, Mrs. Philips, and Mr. Gardiner joined them.

“The dower house is ready for you,” said Louisa. ”You can spend this week packing. We’ll help you in any way we can.” “I will bring you some crates and boxes to use,” said Aunt Philips.

“There won’t be much to pack,” said Elizabeth. “Most of the furniture and household items belong to the estate. I had a letter from Mrs. Collins,” she continued. “They don’t expect to arrive until late in May or early in June. Charlotte has asked me to tell you that she wishes us to take any mementos of our h..home…” she paused, her voice unevenly trailing off. Mary laid a hand on her arm. Elizabeth took a shaky breath and continued. “She wishes us to take not only our personal things, but any cherished mementos we wish to have; pictures, books, childhood playthings, or whatever we may wish, and take them with us. She feels that they belong to us, and also that Mr. Collins will never know the difference.”

“Charlotte has been so good to us,” blurted Lydia, “Aren’t we lucky that she married Mr. Collins and not one of us!”

“Lydia!” hissed Kitty, casting an embarrassed sideways glance at Mrs. Hurst.

Mrs. Hurst smiled at Kitty. “I have to say I agree.”

Mr. Hurst grinned impudently, “And I as well. Can you imagine looking at Mr. Collins across the breakfast table for the rest of your life?” He shuddered theatrically.

Everyone relaxed and laughed, and Elizabeth gazed at Mr. Hurst through her reddened eyes. Last autumn who would have thought that this strange unfriendly gentleman would know how to make them laugh their cares away, even for a moment?

“Gardiner, perhaps Louisa and I should leave? This sounds like you wish to have a private family discussion,” said Hurst, rising from his chair.

“Actually, if my nieces don’t mind, you and Louisa may have some thoughts to contribute,” replied Mr. Gardiner.

“I have another thing that I would like you ladies to think about.” He looked at his nieces for a moment and continued, “This concerns you all, but at this moment I wish to speak particularly to Kitty and Lydia. Your aunts and I have been conferring with your mother, and we have decided that that you girls might do well to go to school for a year or two.”

“School!” exclaimed the girls; Kitty with surprise and Lydia with trepidation. “But we are already out!” cried Kitty. “How can we go to school?”

“You have only been out here in _Meryton_ ,” said Madeline. “This is a small town. It is not as if you were brought out in London. Your uncle and I think that going to school would help you girls prepare to move gracefully in a larger society.”

“Oh, Madeline, I agree!” cried Louisa. She turned to the girls. “When Miss Bennet and my brother are married, they can assist you, along with your aunt and uncle, to make your come-out in London. I know you are happy here, and Meryton is a very comfortable place to grow up, but you could have a much wider acquaintance in town.”

Lydia sat frozen, her mind whirling. Ever since she had discovered what a laughingstock she had become, she had been struggling to think of a way to change her reputation. ”I would like to go to school! Even though I would miss being at home but…” She began to sniffle. “But I would like to… learn to be a lady!” she said, bursting into tears.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner exchanged startled looks. They had expected resistance from Lydia. “I also wish to go!” exclaimed Kitty, ”Lydia and I can learn together.”

Elizabeth was watching Mary, who sat quietly with her eyes downcast. _Mary would love to have gone to school_. She reached over and squeezed Mary’s hand. Mary squeezed back but did not look up.

Their aunt had not missed this gesture. “Mary, my dear,” she said, moving to sit by her niece. “This is not fair, is it?” she asked gently, ”I know you would have liked to have gone to school, but the age of nineteen is a little too old. Your uncle and I have been thinking about you, too, my dear. We would like you to come and stay with us for as long as you wish. We will find you a music master, and masters for whatever else you would choose to study. You can visit the museums and libraries. Lizzy, we would like you to come, too.”

Mary lifted her head and smiled tentatively. ”I would like that very much.”

“Who would take care of Mama?” asked Elizabeth.

Hurst noted, not for the first time, that the girls thought in terms of taking care of their mother, not of their mother taking care of them.

Aunt Philips spoke up, “Your Aunt Gardiner and I have been speaking of this. I will be able to spend every day with your mother if need be. Also, Jane will be at Netherfield, and the girls wouldn’t leave for school until the beginning of term.”

“Do you have any schools in mind, Madeline?” asked Louisa.

“I have been told of a few that might prove suitable, and Mr. Philips has also heard of two schools that are not too far away” said Mrs. Gardiner, “Can you recommend any, Louisa?”

Louisa was quiet, her expression thoughtful, and finally said, “I don’t know of any particular schools to recommend, but I can tell you from my own experience how _not_ to choose a school.”

She had the attention of everyone in the room. She paused and considered her words for a moment.

“My father’s wish was that our family would rise from the society of businessmen to that of the gentry. With that in mind, he enrolled my sister and me in one of the best female seminaries in London. It was for the daughters of families of the ton, many of them titled. My father may have believed that by being educated with these girls, and growing up with them, they would come to know us and that we would be accepted by them as friends. The opposite proved to be true. We were ostracized as being above ourselves. I learned early on to be very careful not to attract attention to myself.” She sighed. “I studied hard, practiced a great deal, read widely, and did my best not to be noticed. I tried to make the best of a difficult situation, and over the years I did make a few very dear friends.”

”My sister reacted and behaved very differently, however. As I look back at it, I believe she is much like my father in that she is ambitious. She spent her school years striving for recognition from the daughters of the ton. She never faltered from her goal, no matter how rudely she was put down. She put herself forward quite unashamedly. She manipulated many of these girls into inviting her to their homes and their parties. She did not make any true friends. Oh, dear!” she said, putting her hands to her now pink cheeks. “How mortifying to think about, even after all these years!”

Gilbert reached for her hand, “Then it is a good thing that you no longer have to think about it, my dear,” he said soothingly.

Louisa smiled gratefully at her husband and then returned to her narrative, clutching his hand. “The point I wish to make is that there are many very good schools. It is important to choose a school not only based on academic reputation, but where you have the best chance of being happy and comfortable. A school where you can be comfortable with yourselves, to learn and grow, as well as make lifelong friends.”

It was Kitty who voiced what they had all been wondering. “Mrs. Hurst, where _is_ Miss Bingley? Did she stay in London?”

There was a quick exchange of glances between the Hursts. “She has been staying with some friends this winter. I believe she must be enjoying herself, since she hasn’t answered any of my notes. We really haven’t had a word from her for months now.”

***

 “Gilbert,” said Louisa later, gazing out the window of their bedchamber, “I have been thinking of helping the Bennets find the right school for the girls.” She had retired for the evening, and was sitting on the window seat in her nightgown and dressing gown, her shining black curls tumbling over her shoulders.

“You have helped them already, my dear, with your advice this morning,” her husband replied. He was relaxing in an armchair with a newspaper, and hadn’t yet changed into his nightclothes.   

“Yes, but this is so important to Kitty and Lydia. Especially to Lydia, it seems. I wonder what made her react so strongly?” She was still looking out the window, her legs pulled up, her arms wrapped around her knees. “I do think there must be more that I could do for them.” Her husband, studying her, was struck anew by her loveliness, which her nightclothes seemed more to reveal than hide.

It was definitely time for bed, and he hadn’t seen his valet yet.

“Where the devil is Bixby?” he wondered aloud.

“I gave him the evening off,” said Louisa. “ _I_ will assist you in your evening toilette tonight, my darling,” she said, rising from the window seat and advancing on her husband with a widening smile and mischievous eyes. “And you won’t need your nightshirt,” she whispered in his ear, as she slid her hands under his coat and peeled it off his shoulders.

“Oh, my love,” sighed Gilbert, as her hands then moved to his waistcoat and started undoing the buttons. He put his arms around her and bent his head to kiss her, and her tender ministrations took on more urgency. Within seconds the waistcoat had joined the coat on the floor, followed quickly by his shirt. Louisa put her hands on Gilbert’s chest and slid them caressingly around his body and up his back, but then gently propelled him backward. He felt the bed behind his knees and fell backwards onto it. Louisa stood before him and shrugged off her dressing gown. Her flimsy nightgown left almost nothing to the imagination. Still smiling, she leaned forward, as if to crawl on top of him, but then, laughing, bent to remove his boots instead. After the boots were off, she leaned over him again, and he pulled her down next to him. They kissed deeply, her hands on his breeches buttons and his on her nightgown, pulling it up over her head and tossing it to the floor to join the growing heap of discarded clothing. Easing his tight breeches off, she let her hands slide over his body. “Oh, God, Louisa,” he murmured as his hands roamed over her. They made vigorous love until they lay still, breathing hard, clinging to each other from head to toe.

Gilbert marveled at his luck. He thought of all the years of loneliness and frustration and how it all now was worth it. What if he _had_ found a tolerable girl to marry when he was younger? He would have never met the love of his life. How he loved her! There was nothing he would not do for her.

They lay between waking and sleeping, their arms around each other, occasionally kissing or whispering endearments. After a time, Louisa propped herself up on her elbow and stroked his face. “Gilbert,” she whispered, “let’s go on a little honeymoon.” Gilbert chuckled. “Do you think we really need one, my love?” he said, slowly running his hand down her curves.

“I was thinking of perhaps a day or two in Bath, just the two of us,” she said, ever so lightly tracing the tips of her fingers down his chest.

He gasped, but managed to force his increasingly addled brain to put together a sentence. “Bath!” he exclaimed. “Why do you want to go to Bath?”

“So we can stay at a lovely little inn, dance together at a ball, make love night and day, and visit a school for girls,” answered his wife, her hand trailing further down his body.

“Ohhhh,” he sighed, “that would be lov…. What?” he said, his eyes popping open.

“I want to go visit the schools Mr. Philips was speaking of, Gilbert. One is in Bath and the other is in Reading. Madeline and Edward must return to London, and Mr. and Mrs. Philips feel it is too soon for them to leave the Bennets alone. It would be a great favor to them, and I wish to do it. And you want to come with me, my darling.” She nipped at his ear. ”We will have a lovely time, I promise you.”

“Oh, Louisa, really! I don’t know anything about girls’ schools! Not to mention it would be at least a five day journey and…. Mmmmm, Louisa,” he said, as she continued to caress him. When her hands hovered over his most ticklish spots, he tensed.

“Gilbert,” she sang huskily in his ear, “I can make you scream like a little gir-rl…”

Gilbert yelped, “Not that, Louisa! All right, all right! I’ll go with you!”

***

The next morning all three of them returned to Longbourn to see the Gardiners off. Louisa told Madeline that she and Gilbert would visit the schools in Reading and Bath sometime after the wedding. “I’m going to write to them today,” she said. “Gilbert and I think we can arrange the visits after the wedding.”

“Louisa, I am speechless!” cried Mrs. Gardiner. “And Gilbert doesn’t mind going to so much trouble? The girls aren’t even family to you!”

“They _are_ family, Madeline. They will be Charles’ sisters. Jane will be my sister. If the girls are happy and busy at school, it will be helpful to everyone, including you,” answered Louisa. “If going to a little bit of trouble ensures that Kitty and Lydia are enrolled in school, and are happy there, then my hard-earned experiences won’t have been for nothing,” she added.

“I guess all I can say then is thank you… from the bottom of my heart!” exclaimed Madeline, embracing her friend. They walked arm in arm to join the rest of the family.

Outside, Gardiner was loading a portmanteau into the carriage. He turned to his friend.

“Hurst, how did your wife persuade you to go on a five or six day journey to visit girls’ schools?” he asked in amazement. Hurst blushed scarlet to the roots of his hair. “I know we are close friends, Gardiner,” he grinned, “but I cannot tell you that!” Mr. Gardiner stared at him for a minute and then threw back his head and roared with laughter.

***

Thanks primarily to Aunt Philips’ volubility, before two days had passed, word had spread throughout the neighborhood that the Bennet ladies were moving to the dower house on the Netherfield estate. Once again, Longbourn was besieged with offers of assistance. Since the majority of the contents of the house were staying, most of the offers were turned down with thanks, although they did accept the loan of crates and boxes. The Bennets could manage very well with their own wagons and the help of their family and the staffs of Longbourn and Netherfield.

The wedding would of necessity be small, only family, a simple ceremony with no wedding breakfast or other celebrations. After a consultation with Reverend Blythe, all the family, including the prospective bride and groom, could focus on settling into their new homes.

***

In planning the move to the dower house, it had been tacitly accepted by all her family, even her mother; that Elizabeth would work in her father’s study.

Elizabeth opened the door to her father’s refuge for the first time since his funeral. Davy had already placed several large wooden crates on the floor in the center of the room. She opened the heavy drapes and the spring sunshine came streaming in, lighting up the dust motes floating in the air. She stood in the middle of the floor and looked about her.

The room had already changed from when it had been her father’s domain. Her uncles had sorted the contents of the enormous ancient desk and had removed many of his papers and documents, tidying up the perennially messy clutter. She wrapped her arms around her waist and sighed. She had spent countless happy hours with him in that room, but she could no longer feel his presence there. He was really gone. She swallowed, took a breath, and set one of the boxes on an ottoman.

Sweeping her eyes over the book shelves, it seemed she had a special memory for almost every book and object in the room. However, she couldn’t pack up _everything_. Even Charlotte’s patience wouldn’t extend that far. Elizabeth began by examining each shelf one at a time, removing books, looking at them one by one, and either putting them in the box or returning them gently to the shelves. She smiled at some of the books and leafed through the pages. Over the course of the day, the book-lined walls began to take on the aspect of a gap-toothed smile.

She packed the chess set, even though she knew it had been at Longbourn since long before her father’s time. She folded his favorite old coat and set it in the box as well. His pen and inkwell and a little brass telescope also went in. His spectacles, which she had retrieved from his bedchamber. A small marble bust of Aristotle, whom he had loved to quote, and one of Cicero. She came across an ancient Bible, written and illuminated by hand in Latin and bound between hide-covered boards. There were several genealogical charts written on vellum stuffed in the covers. _This house will no longer have any Bennets living in it._ She put them into a box. She decided to leave the enormous globe. She had spent many hours dreaming over it as a child, but she was sure even the self-absorbed Mr. Collins would notice its absence. She took a box of ancient documents that her father had shown her only a few years before. Some of them went back to the time before old King Henry. They belonged to the family, not to the estate. They went into the growing collection of boxes. 

As she finished reading the shelves, she spied her father’s fishing rod, along with a child-sized one, leaning dusty and forgotten against the wall in the corner. Those would have to come with them as well. Memories of standing next to him on the river bank, holding her fishing pole, having long conversations, came flooding back to her.

As Elizabeth worked, she pondered her future. She was happy for Jane and for her entire family. Mr. Bingley, or Charles as he had asked them all to call him, had been the answer to all their prayers when he had appeared at their front door that damp, cold, dark evening only a week before. Not only had he proposed to Jane, saving her from a lifetime of heartache, but he had given the family a place to live. And settled an allowance on them, no doubt. Elizabeth knew that there had been very little money left to her mother and sisters, and that Mr. Bing… _Charles_ ,… had spent time closeted with her uncles, discussing settlements and making arrangements.

Elizabeth did not wish to be supported by her new brother, much as she had come to love and respect him. She didn’t wish to be dependent on anyone, even her dear Uncle Gardiner. Determined to be self-reliant, she wracked her brain, trying to think of some employment she might be suited to, other than that of companion or governess. Her eyes ran over the bookshelves. How she might enjoy being a librarian!

She paused and stared into the fire, the bronze paperweight in her hand temporarily forgotten. With no formal education, the chances of finding employment she might find enjoyable or even tolerable were slim to none. Not to mention the fact that it was a degradation for a gently born female to work at all.

Elizabeth collapsed into the old leather chair. How foolish she had been all these years, assuming she would marry for love and that she would have a husband to love and care for her. A wave of desolation washed over her. Watching Jane and Charles together gave her joy but oddly, made her chest ache. Still, she was glad that Jane would be loved and cherished forever, as she deserved to be.

Mr. Darcy appeared in her mind, but she firmly pushed him away. Another reason to be ashamed. She had been so very wrong about him, and about Mr. Wickham. She remembered how offensive she had been to Mr. Darcy at the ball. She had pried into his personal life and pestered him about Wickham.

 _I hardly know myself._  Her faith in her own discernment, indeed her self-respect, had been shattered. Elizabeth was grateful with all her heart that Jane’s wedding was taking place so quickly, so that she would not encounter Mr. Darcy in person. She would be in Cheapside before he was even informed of his friend’s marriage, and Elizabeth knew he wouldn’t be caught dead in Gracechurch Street. Not that he would ever consider visiting her to begin with. Not in _real_ life.

Aunt and Uncle Gardiner had invited her to accompany them on their return to London right after the wedding. She had accepted with a sense of relief. Her urgent need to get away from Longbourn surprised her.  She loved her home dearly, but it was no longer theirs. She knew she would miss Meryton and all their old neighbors and friends, not to mention the countryside she knew so well that it was part of her.

Surrounded by caring people, she was desperately lonely. She had no one to share her humor and love of learning with, to exchange glances with when observing human absurdity. How she missed Papa! Jane would be leaving as well, even if it was to go only as far as Netherfield. Elizabeth would sorely miss their late night conversations. She would miss Mary, Kitty, and Lydia, too. The one good thing that had happened was that they had become close, and Elizabeth had seen them all grow stronger.

After the trauma of the winter, Elizabeth yearned to be somewhere entirely new. She would spend time in London, recovering her equilibrium, but then she would leave so that Mary could move in with the Gardiners and begin her studies.

Elizabeth would never live with her mother again. But where could she go? Another part of England, or maybe Scotland? She adored Robert Burns and had often dreamed of traveling there. Perhaps a family in the West Indies might need a governess. Or America perhaps, a new land where even a female with no credentials might be acceptable as a teacher or librarian. She tried to picture herself in a cabin made of logs deep in the wilderness and then snorted at her own folly. Still, living among Indians on the frontier might be preferable to an encounter with Mr. Darcy at the Bingleys’.

Overcome, she put her face in her hands, the weight in her chest making it a struggle to breathe. She pulled her handkerchief from her pocket, hoping she might finally be able to cry it out. That relief did not come, and finally, Elizabeth threw her handkerchief away in frustration.

She was beginning to come to terms with the sadness and loss and knew that in time she would get used to it. It was the raw pain of her last conversation with her father that she bore alone. She had been so angry with him.

Had he heard the anger in her voice when they last spoke? If he had been hurt by it, she would never know. He had been so dear to her, yet all her life, he had chosen to make light of her when she wished to speak seriously. Elizabeth would give anything to have that last evening back, so she and her father could have spoken of happy memories instead.

Her sorrow she could share with her family, but her guilt was hers alone, wearing on her night and day. What would her sisters, or worse, _Mama_ , think if they knew that she had practically snarled at him only hours before he slipped away?

***

The Bennet family’s time in their ancestral home was drawing to a close. They found themselves simultaneously wishing it would never end, and wishing to move on with the inevitable. Every day the farm wagon was filled with boxes, crates, and trunks, and driven to the dower house. Mr. Bingley, Aunt and Uncle Philips, and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were there every day to assist and support. Although Longbourn house would look much as it always had, there was a strange impersonal emptiness about it. The pianoforte belonged to Longbourn, but Bingley had purchased a new one for the dower house. Mary was delighted with it.

As their belongings arrived at the dower house, the ladies began to spend more time there, settling in. The house had more bedchambers than Longbourn, so each of the sisters could have her own room. Jane’s trunks were taken to the manor house. Elizabeth’s things were stored in one of the bedchambers, but she did not intend to ever live there. She would take a trunk to London, and decide what to do with the rest later.

The night before the wedding, Jane and Elizabeth stretched out side by side on the big bed in the room that contained Elizabeth’s things. They had been reminiscing about their nocturnal chats in their little bedchamber at Longbourn.  Jane reached over and stroked her sister’s hair.

In the midst of the joy over her marriage, Jane was grieving her father and worried sick about her sister. Now it was Lizzy whose smile did not reach her eyes. ”Lizzy, do you remember what Papa said the night before he died? That Charles would return for me?” Jane blushed slightly as she used her fiance’s given name, but she loved saying it.

“Yes, I do, Jane,” her sister answered.

“What else did you and Papa talk about after I went to bed?” Jane asked, but then regretted it immediately. With a slight shake of her head, Elizabeth turned her face away from Jane’s gaze. Jane’s eyes widened as Elizabeth’s mouth closed in a firm line, her eyes bleak.


	8. "A night hasn't gone by that I haven't dreamt of her"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been somewhat more productive than I'd hoped this weekend. Here is Chapter 8 and I will try to post another one before the start of the work week. 
> 
> The focus switches more to our friends at Pemberley and Rosings over the next chapter or so
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy it!

 

At long last, it was Saturday again, the long-awaited day of Jane’s wedding to Mr. Bingley. Mrs. Bennet, her daughters, the Philips’ the Gardiners’, Mrs. Hill, and other members of the staff at Longbourn once more walked to the old church. There they met Mr. Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst.

A hushed solemnity enveloped them. Elizabeth preceded Jane into the church. Jane was clinging to Uncle Gardiner’s arm, her eyes unswervingly on Bingley’s. Everyone was in mourning, and every eye was damp. Reverend Blythe spoke the ancient words of the ceremony, and Jane and Charles were married. Elizabeth took in the sorrowful group, huddled together in black. What a different wedding it would have been if it had taken place before the winter! But there was no use thinking about that.

***

That evening, Jane stood looking out the window, alone in the mistress’s chamber at Netherfield. She was wearing a pale pink silk nightgown that Aunt Gardiner had brought her from London. Her aunt had spoken to her gently about what to expect of the marriage bed, and her worst anxieties had been quelled.

Still, she felt quite discomposed. Her grief was still raw. She desperately wanted to talk to Lizzy, but Lizzy wasn’t there. The Hursts were spending the night with the Philips’ to allow them some privacy. Jane was deeply grateful.

She closed her eyes and thought only of Charles. How her life had changed within a few weeks’ time! And her father had been right; Charles had loved her and returned for her. She shut her eyes tightly and pictured her father smiling at her. “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered.

She heard the door behind her open and close, and turned to gaze at her husband. Charles was her husband. It was her dream come true. Even now, part of her was afraid she might wake up from this dream and find herself still in her bed at Longbourn, in the middle of a freezing night with her father dying in his chamber. But Charles was truly here with her, and they were married. He was _so_ handsome and kind, and he loved her dearly. She felt a tear course down her cheek.

Charles saw it, too. He stood there in his dressing gown, so tall and strong, and so concerned about his bride. He closed the distance between them and embraced her gently. “Jane, my love,” he whispered in her ear, “we can wait, you know. We have our whole lives together. Your bereavement is so fresh, I will not press you for anything.”

Jane smiled at him. She felt that she had been smiling and crying both at the same time for ages, happiness and sadness mixed together so thoroughly that she didn’t know if she would ever feel one without the other again.

“Charles, I became your wife today and I wish to be your wife completely.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and turned her face up for a kiss.” “Oh, Jane,” he murmured, obliging her. He raised his head to drink in the sight of her beautiful face.

“First, my darling, I have a wedding present for you,” he said with a smile, and slipped a small silver box out of the pocket of his dressing gown. He handed the box to her and she opened it, her eyes widening as she gasped. She lifted out a pearl and diamond necklace. There were matching earrings in the box.

“Charles! It is so beautiful! It is too much! Whenever did you have time to get this!” she marveled. She looked at him teasingly, “Or did you bring it along with the special license?” Charles laughed and took the necklace from her. He put it around her neck, reaching his arms around her to fasten it.

“It was my mother’s. I had forgotten about it, but Louisa brought it with her when she and Gilbert came from London. It has always been meant for my bride, Jane. I know that you won’t be able to wear it until after your mourning is over, but I wanted you to have it today.” He whispered in her ear. “It looks beautiful on you.”

Jane looked up at him and wrapped her arms round his neck once more, then slid her hands across his shoulders.  He kissed her again, one hand in her golden hair, the other sliding her dressing gown off her shoulders. She let if fall to the floor, and moved her hands to his chest, as he moved his lips to her neck.

“Charles,” she sighed, “I should take the necklace off.” “No,” he murmured into her shoulder, “Leave it on.” Jane chuckled, and then gasped as he resumed kissing her neck. “Shall I wear the earrings then as well?” she teased, trying to keep her voice steady.

“No,” he said, nibbling her ear lobes. “I might swallow one.” Jane’s laugh turned into a squeal as Charles swept her into his arms and set her on the bed. Her nightgown and his dressing gown slipped to the floor, and all coherent conversation came to an end.

The next morning, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner again took their leave, this time taking Elizabeth with them.

***

Spring was slow to arrive in Derbyshire, and it was taking time to melt the deep, cold-hardened snow, even as the equinox drew near. So it was that when Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived at Pemberley, the roads had been open for almost a fortnight, but there were still snow drifts everywhere. Patches of bare ground were beginning to appear here and there, but the accumulation of snow kept the air chilly.

Colonel Fitzwilliam rode to the stables, handed off his horse to a groom, and entered the house unannounced through a side door. Mrs. Reynolds greeted him as he entered the hall, and took him to Georgiana, who was practicing in the music room.

Georgiana squealed and leaped up, running to embrace her cousin. The Colonel picked her up and whirled her around. “Richard!” exclaimed Georgiana, “do you know you are the first person I have seen from outside Pemberley since before Christmas? You are like an emissary from another world to me!”

“Has it been awful, my pet?” asked her cousin warmly.

“No, although truly it could have been.  We were well provisioned, and there are of course enough of us here to keep each other company,” she replied, smiling at Mrs. Reynolds.

Her smile faded slightly. “At least, _almost_ all of us passed the winter in good humor.” She eyes again met the older woman’s.

Mrs. Reynolds moved to the door. “I will bring you some refreshment, Colonel,” she said.

Georgiana watched her leave, and then looked at her cousin. “We have been concerned about Fitzwilliam. He hasn’t been himself for such a long time, ever since he returned from London.”

The Colonel raised his eyebrows. “How do you mean, ‘not himself’?” he asked.

Georgiana considered her words carefully, “It is as if he isn’t always with us, even when we are having a conversation. He drifts off and is often preoccupied. He is all that is polite and correct, but something is troubling him. He isn’t sleeping well. Talbot says he has disturbing dreams.  At first I thought he hadn’t forgiven me for … for last summer.”  She took a breath, looking at her feet, but then raised her chin to look at her cousin. Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled gently and put his arm reassuringly around her. 

Georgiana went on. “But I recently realized that it doesn’t have anything to do with me. He… he’s called me Elizabeth a few times. He doesn’t even realize it when he does.”

Richard stared at Georgiana. “Really…,” he paused, his eyes thoughtful, remembering Darcy’s chilly and troubled aspect when they had last met.

“Yes, Richard, and I wondered who Elizabeth could be. I felt like I would remember if he had ever been fond of a lady, although he never mentions ladies in his conversations or letters to me. Then I remembered the letters he wrote to me from Hertfordshire, in the autumn. I read them again, and he mentions a young lady named Elizabeth Bennet many times.”

 “I knew it!” cried the Colonel. “Georgie, I spoke with Fitzwilliam once during those few days he was in London, after he had left Hertfordshire and before he came to Pemberley. It was obvious to me that he was upset. I wondered if something might have happened to unsettle him while he was visiting Bingley.”

He looked at Georgiana. “He’s not a man who will admit to anything that might look like weakness. Do you think we need to force the issue?”

“Yes, I think we do. He is suffering, there can be no doubt. I have tried to approach him but he refuses to be drawn in. I have great faith in your abilities, though,” smiled Georgiana.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, dearest,” said Richard seriously. Then a twinkle appeared in his eye again, “If we have to, we’ll tie him to a chair,” he teased. Georgiana laughed, happy to have her cousin there to help her with her morose and uncommunicative brother.

Mrs. Reynolds reappeared with some sandwiches, biscuits, and tea. Richard sat down for some refreshment first, regaling his cousin and Mrs. Reynolds with news of the world beyond Derbyshire. Then, with a wink at Georgiana, he went to make his arrival known to his cousin Darcy.

Making his way to the study, he knocked at the door. “Enter,” said his cousin’s voice, and Richard walked in. “There you are, my reclusive cousin. How are you?” said the Colonel heartily, walking through the doorway.

The Colonel entered the study, a familiar room to him. Familiar, yet different. It had always been Darcy’s sanctuary, as fastidiously maintained as his person. A slightly different room met the Colonel’s discerning eye.

The enormous desk was cluttered, and the stacks of correspondence were untidy. There was a glass of brandy, and near it an empty decanter. His eyebrows shot up. Darcy never had more than one brandy, and only in the evening.

His clear unblinking gaze took in Darcy’s countenance. He looked drawn and tired. There were harsh lines on either side of his mouth, and deep shadows under his eyes. But it was the bleakness in those eyes that was most disturbing. Richard had always teased Darcy about his seriousness, but this change in his cousin’s demeanor was worrisome. Something was indeed afoot.

Darcy belatedly manufactured a smile and stood to move towards the Colonel, his hand outstretched. Richard grasped his hand and held it for a moment. “You’ve had a hard winter, Darce. I can see it in your face.” The Colonel was intently scrutinizing him; his concern palpable, and for a fleeting moment Darcy wanted to unburden his soul.

Instead, he looked down at his desk and aimlessly shuffled papers. “How were the roads, Richard?”

The Colonel regarded him for a long moment. Darcy wasn’t going to give up his secrets easily. Perhaps if he went along with the small talk for a while, a deeper conversation would follow.

Darcy moved to resume his seat but Richard took his arm in a friendly manner and sat him down on the sofa, relying on his cousin’s impeccable manners to acquiesce. There would be no retreating behind the desk.  He seated himself next to the silent man and made bland conversation.

“The roads are clear enough, though very muddy. Our journey to Rosings may take longer than it usually does, so that should be a factor in our planning. Perhaps south of here, where the winter wasn’t so hard, the roads will be in better condition.” The Colonel went on to fill his cousin in on family news, and all that had gone on in London and other places in England over the winter.

“Father has sent my brother to Ireland to assess any weather damage to the family properties there. He wasn’t happy to leave London during the season, but there was no arguing with Papa.” Richard paused and stretched out his legs, eyeing Darcy.

“I wasn’t surprised to find you had left town, cousin. I know how much you love Christmas at Pemberley,” he continued. “I visited Bingley at Christmas time. He was not his usual self. Have you heard from him?”

“I have just received a few letters that he sent months ago so no, not recently. We just started getting the post regularly again just over a week ago,” said Darcy, avoiding his cousin’s eyes.

“How did you manage to get your staff and tenants safely through the winter?”

“It took a lot of work, but we had had an excellent harvest last autumn, and our stores of wood and coal were also sufficient. We moved grain for the livestock closer to the barns and stables after the first snowstorm. After the new year we also moved all of our outlying tenants to quarters closer to the main buildings.” Darcy replied.

“Well done, cousin! Your father would be proud of you. But what an enormous undertaking! Is that why you look so ill and exhausted?” asked Richard, leaning toward Darcy and looking at him steadily.

Darcy blinked. It hadn’t occurred to him that he might look as awful as he felt. He realized that there was no fooling his cousin. His shoulders sagged.

“Tell me, Darce,” the Colonel urged gently. ”Something’s been eating at you for months, hasn’t it? I could see it in your face before you even left London. I don’t think this has anything to do with Georgie, does it?”

“No. No it doesn’t,” admitted Darcy. “I don’t know that I can explain it to you, Richard.”

“Try me,” said Richard.

Darcy sat motionless, wondering where to start, when he himself wasn’t sure when it had begun. His cousin prompted, “What happened in Hertfordshire to put both you and Bingley in such low spirits, and for such a long time?” Darcy winced, mortified that his trouble was so obvious that his cousin had figured it out after seeing him only twice in three months.

Darcy sighed and began. “I joined Bingley and his family at Netherfield, an estate in Hertfordshire that he leased in September. Bingley wishes to buy an estate and took a year’s lease on this one with the option to purchase it. He asked if I would join him there and advise him as to whether it would be satisfactory. Georgiana and I had been here at Pemberley since I brought her home from Ramsgate. Mrs. Annesley had been with us for over two months, and she and Georgie were getting along well. Georgie seemed to be recovering from the trauma, and the harvest was nearly complete, so I deemed it safe to be away for a few weeks. I met Bingley at Netherfield just after Michaelmas.”

He stopped dead. Had it really only been since October? It seemed as if she’d been living in his heart forever.

Richard cocked his head, eyebrows high. “And…?”

Darcy started, and continued. “In addition to investigating the value and potential of the estate, Bingley also wished to become acquainted with the neighborhood. A few days after we arrived, Bingley insisted we attend a local assembly in Meryton, which is a small market town about two miles from Netherfield.”

“Was this where he met the lovely girl with the dreadful family?” asked Richard. Darcy blinked and looked at him. “You told me about her in London,” prompted the Colonel. “That was the reason you gave for your abrupt departure from Hertfordshire.”

“Oh, that,” said Darcy. He shifted slightly in his chair and looked away.

Suspicious, the Colonel decided to dig a bit. “Yes, that,” he repeated. “You were in league with Miss Bingley on that plot, perhaps?” He suppressed a shudder. The Colonel had a strong aversion to Caroline Bingley. “And Bingley’s heart was broken? I saw him over the winter and he was still very melancholy.”

“You need not remind me of my despicable behavior! I have already tried to make amends with Bingley.”

“Well, that is encouraging at least. What could you possibly have done for him from here?”

Darcy sank deeper into the sofa cushions, his elbows on his knees, his hands resting against his temples, remembering the sleepless night a few weeks before when he had rejected the possibility of personal happiness for himself, but embraced it for Bingley.  

“I sent him an express. The road to Lambton had just been cleared, and I wrote him a letter. I apologized to him and told him that I had been wrong to interfere in his life, that I was wrong about Miss Bennet’s feelings, and that if his feelings were unchanged, he should go and see her. Then I begged his forgiveness”

There was a brief silence. “And what prompted your change of heart?” Richard asked quietly after a few minutes.

Another silence. Richard determined to wait it out. Finally, his cousin spoke in such a low voice that the Colonel had to listen carefully. “I discovered how it feels to yearn for someone you can never have.”

“Ah, I see.” Richard answered, still in a gentle, serious voice. He eyed the melancholy man before him, so different from the self-assured cousin he was used to. After another pause, he again leaned toward Darcy. “And would this young lady’s name be Elizabeth Bennet?”

Darcy’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “How do you know her name?” he gasped.

“I didn’t figure that out, Darce. Your little sister did.”

“Georgie?” Darcy was in shock. “How could she _possibly_ know?”

Richard smiled sympathetically at Darcy and put his hand reassuringly on his cousin’s arm. “My dear cousin, you are not as good at keeping your secrets as you think you are. Your sister has been watching you with great concern ever since you came back from London. She was convinced that you were still upset over the events at Ramsgate. That is, until you started absent-mindedly calling her Elizabeth.”

“I did? Oh….. Oh my God.” Darcy groaned.

“I think you owe her an explanation,” continued Richard, “which, regardless of what you think, she is mature enough to understand. But first, why don’t you try it out on me? Let us go back to the assembly at Meryton.” Richard put his feet up on an ottoman, preparing for a long narrative.

Darcy shook his head as if to clear his mind. “Yes, the assembly. It was a dreary evening of country dances in a shabby little hall, except for the fact that Bingley fell in love at first sight with Miss Jane Bennet. She is the eldest daughter of five, and the most beautiful woman I have ever beheld.”

“That’s saying quite a lot, Darcy!” exclaimed Richard.

“Yes, but she really is that beautiful, and all that is kind and good, with gentle manners,” said Darcy.

“And Bingley fell in love with her? And she and her sister are of the family with a small, entailed estate and relatives in trade?” continued the Colonel.

“Yes, that’s it,” said Darcy. He went on. “I am afraid I wasn’t civil company that evening. I didn’t want to be there. I did not wish to make the acquaintance of any of the local folk. I dislike being surrounded by the stares and whisperings of curious strangers, repeating my income amongst themselves. I felt terribly guilty about leaving Georgie, but I had promised Bingley faithfully that I would come when he found an estate that interested him. Good manners dictated that I had one dance with Miss Bingley and one with Mrs. Hurst, but that was all. Of course, they were the only ladies there of my acquaintance.”

“I see. And nobody can ever be introduced in a ballroom,” said Richard, pulling an innocent face. Darcy tried silencing him with a cold stare, but that just made his cousin laugh.  “That doesn’t work on me Darce, and you know it! Now let us continue. You were uncomfortable at the assembly.”

“Yes, the evening was interminable and the company dull. Bingley tried to get me to dance with one of Miss Bennet’s sisters, but I didn’t wish to dance at all. Subsequently I discovered that the sister he wanted me to meet was Miss Elizabeth.”

 “Meryton is a very small town,” he continued. “Over the next days and weeks, we met the same people again and again. I observed that mothers in the country can be just as calculating as mothers of the ton when it comes to throwing out their lures and advertising their daughters. But I began to attend any social occasion willingly, because over the course of all these gatherings I developed a desire to be in the company of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. At first I thought I was merely a dispassionate observer ….,”

Here he broke off, deep in his memories. “She has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. She is lovely, not like her sister, but very lovely. Her face is remarkably expressive. She is artless and unaffected. She never simpers or flirts or uses disingenuous female arts to attract attention. She sings and plays beautifully, not technically perhaps, but with genuine expression. She is intelligent and witty, and frank, sometimes painfully so, in her conversation. Sometimes a conversation with her resembles more a fencing match! I don’t believe she liked me at all. I daresay she thought me rather proud.”

“Imagine that,” murmured Richard.

Darcy ignored him, engrossed in his own story. “After we had been there a few weeks, Bingley’s sisters invited Miss Bennet to tea. Mrs. Bennet, a scheming woman if ever I’ve met one, made certain that her daughter got caught in the rain while riding horseback between Longbourn and Netherfield. Miss Bennet took a chill and became ill enough to be forced to stay at Netherfield until she was well. The next morning, who should appear at the door but Miss Elizabeth, determined to nurse her sister through her illness.” A tiny smile played at the corners of his mouth.

 “She had walked three miles through wet paths and fields. Her clothes were damp and her curls had escaped her bonnet.  Her petticoats were six inches deep in mud. Her eyes were shining and her complexion was positively glowing. She had the most determined expression on her little face. Miss Bingley was appalled, of course. She was unusually critical, insulting really, of Miss Elizabeth the entire time we were there.”

“Of course she was,” said Richard. “Women like that have an instinct for sensing a rival. Caroline Bingley has had her snares out for you for years, Darce. No doubt she knew you were losing your heart to Miss Elizabeth long before you did.”

“Then Miss Bingley’s criticism to a personal turn. She asked me if I would ever approve of Georgiana doing such a thing, in her words, creating an exhibition.  Of course, I said no. But somehow, with Elizabeth, it seemed so…. endearing.” Darcy’s eyes took on a faraway look for a moment, then, with a blink, he went back to his account.

“The two Miss Bennets stayed at Netherfield for five days. I was conscious of Miss Elizabeth’s nearness every minute, of being under the same roof as she was day and night. At that point I knew that if she had been of a respectable background, I would have been in some danger. But as I said before, her family is dreadful. Her mother and two youngest sisters visited Netherfield ostensibly to check on Miss Bennet. They were loud and uncouth. The girls pestered Bingley into promising the neighborhood a ball. Of course, Bingley thought it was a capital idea.”

“Miss Elizabeth seemed uncomfortable at Netherfield. Of course, Miss Bingley did not go out of her way to make her feel comfortable, although I believe Mrs. Hurst might have made an attempt. As soon as Miss Bennet had improved slightly, Elizabeth tried to get her parents to send their carriage so they could return to Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet would not send the carriage because she wanted to have Miss Bennet near Bingley as long as possible, and I don’t know why her father wouldn’t have sent it. He seemed to enjoy laughing at his family from a distance more than actively taking part in their lives. Elizabeth finally was forced to request the use of Bingley’s carriage.”

The Colonel’s brow rose slightly at Darcy’s use of the young lady’s given name, but he said nothing.

“I thought I would be relieved when they left, but I missed Elizabeth. I was left to the society of Bingley, who talked of nothing but Miss Bennet; Miss Bingley, who veered between complaining bitterly about the neighborhood and showering Georgiana and myself with flowery compliments; and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, who said very little at all. The Bennets had a visitor, a distant cousin, and so I didn’t see much of them, until the day Bingley and I rode into Meryton and found them on the street conversing with George Wickham!”

“What?” ejaculated Richard, sitting bolt upright, his feet flying off the ottoman and hitting the floor. “What was he doing there? Did he follow you?”

“No, it was just a horrible coincidence. Somehow, by fraudulent means no doubt, he scraped up the money to buy a commission. He was joining the regiment there.”

“Hmmm,” said the Colonel, “that’s Forster’s regiment. I’ll need to speak with him about that. Go on, Darce.”

“He furthered his acquaintance with Elizabeth at a card party for the officers given by her aunt. As we both know, he is a most captivating liar. He spun a tale of the woe and degradation of his life and fortune, all at my despicable hands. To Elizabeth, having met the dull and stiff Darcy and comparing him to the handsome and charismatic Wickham, there was no contest.”

“Oh, Darce, I am sorry,” said Richard, putting his hand on Darcy’s shoulder. Darcy slumped, frowning, but after a few moments continued his story.

“A few days later, Bingley’s ball took place at Netherfield. Miss Bingley was not pleased with the idea of giving a ball to entertain a scruffy collection of neighbors, especially at the instigation of the younger Bennet girls, so I have a feeling Mrs. Hurst ended up planning and carrying out all the preparations. She made wonderful work of it. The house was beautiful, the music was excellent and the menu was inspired. I had to admit some degree of excitement myself. Elizabeth looked absolutely radiant. I could not tear my eyes from her. We danced, and she pressed me a bit about my acquaintance with Wickham, but even that impertinence seemed a minor annoyance. I was too busy drinking in the sight of her. I was lost, although it took me a long time to admit it to myself.”

“However, her family put on quite an exhibition that evening. Her mother would not stop crowing about Miss Bennet and Bingley. She was all but planning the wedding, at the top of her lungs. The one sister who is plain, Miss Mary, endeavored to exclude other young ladies from performing on the pianoforte. The two youngest sisters were particularly uninhibited, noisy, and ill-mannered. Elizabeth was humiliated, and her father, who for once was in attendance, refused to exercise his authority to discipline his wife or his daughters. I felt so very sorry for her. I could see the distress and embarrassment on her face.”

Darcy settled back into his seat, his face turned away. “She had already visited my dreams on a few occasions. After that evening, a night hasn’t gone by that I haven’t dreamt of her. Still, I did not admit to myself that I had lost my heart. I told myself that it was a mere physical infatuation and that it would fade quickly once I left Hertfordshire. The day after the ball Bingley left for London on business, intending to return in three days. Miss Bingley immediately began to importune her sister and brother-in-law to also leave for town. I am now ashamed of myself, but I joined Miss Bingley in arguing that Miss Bennet did not love Bingley and that it would be better for him if we all returned to London. Curiously, I remember Hurst resisting the removal, but he was soon bullied into agreeing by Miss Bingley. We left for London the next day.”

He looked at his cousin. “And that’s where I saw you, Richard.  Less than a fortnight after you called at Darcy House, the thought of staying in town for the season repelled me so much, I left for Pemberley. Within a few days of my arrival, we had the first of our many snowstorms, and I have not left the estate since then.”

“But Miss Elizabeth came with you,” prompted Richard.

Darcy closed his eyes and let his chin drop to his chest. ”Yes, she is with me, in my thoughts and dreams, day and night. I had been too far gone before we even left Hertfordshire. In vain have I struggled! It will not do! My feelings will not be repressed! It is like a… a madness. I am mortified that I cannot assert control over myself!”

 “Cuz, many people fall madly in love at least once in their lives. Why should you be any different?” asked Richard.

“Because I am a Darcy. By rank and by breeding I am expected to exercise control over my emotions. I owe it to my family and my peers to behave with decorum and dignity. Even if I were to declare my feelings to Elizabeth, even if she returned my love, surely you can see that I could not pursue any kind of courtship with her!” snapped Darcy furiously.

“Because…?”

“Richard! How could I possibly introduce a woman with such low connections to our family as my bride, however much I may love her! True, she is a gentleman’s daughter, but who is her mother? Who are her uncles and aunts? I am a Darcy of Pemberley. Duty and family honor demand that I enter into an advantageous alliance with a female of rank and fortune.”

“Advantageous alliance? Female? Good God, Darcy, you’re scaring me. You sound exactly like Aunt Catherine! You are speaking of marriage, not diplomacy! You should marry the person you wish to spend the rest of your life with! Who do you think you would offend if you chose Miss Elizabeth as your bride? Certainly not me, nor I think your sister. If I know Georgie, she would want you to marry for love. My parents? I think they consider you an adult who can marry as he chooses. My brother? He never notices anyone but himself. Darcy, the only person in our family who has any concern about who you may marry is Aunt Catherine, who is convinced that you are going to marry Anne. She wpuld be outraged if you marry anyone but Anne, even if it were Princess Charlotte! Yes, you _are_ a Darcy of Pemberley, a person who has the fortune and rank to do as he pleases, including marry the woman his heart cries out for.”

“Richard, I don’t know if you understand….,” began Darcy.

“Oh, I do understand, and much better than you do! You aren’t forced to marry for money, as I must do if I wish to maintain the habits of expense I have been raised with!” retorted the Colonel, vexation showing on his face and in his voice, as he began involuntarily to rise to his feet.

Darcy was silent and embarrassed. He and Richard had been close as brothers all their lives, yet he had never even once thought of what it must be like to be a second son, not to have a fortune of his own. The heir and the spare. Could it be awful to be the spare? How could he have never considered this before? Richard was always the charming, funny one, seeming not to have a care in the world. Darcy chastised himself for his selfishness. After a few moments he said quietly, “I am very sorry, Richard. Please accept my apologies. That was completely thoughtless of me.”

“Yes, it was,” replied Richard, slowly sitting back down. The room was silent for a few moments. Then Richard spoke again, his voice once again level. “Darce, how well do you know Miss Elizabeth? How much time have you actually spent with her, getting to know her?

Darcy had been unwilling to confront himself with this question. He felt strongly that he knew Elizabeth intimately. His heart knew everything about her: the silken rustle of her skirts as she moved about Pemberley, how she looked presiding over their dinner table, consulting with Mrs. Reynolds, playing duets with Georgiana, how his mother’s wedding ring sparkled on her finger, what poetry she liked him to read to her; the pulse point below her ear that he kissed when he wanted to drive her mad with desire, the way her breast fit perfectly in his hand, how her alabaster skin glowed in the moonlight as she lay naked in his bed, her wildly curling hair spread across his chest. These mental images, as they always did, made every fiber of his body leap to attention, and he surreptitiously pulled his coat around himself.

Richard was observing him. _I was afraid of that._ Aloud, he repeated quietly, “Darcy?”

“Oh, Richard,” said Darcy slowly, “the truth is I have spent only a few days in her company at Netherfield, and even then she spent most of her time caring for her sister. Several conversations at other gatherings, the one most enchanting dance I have ever danced in my life, and that is the sum total of the time I have spent in the company of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

“Could it be, Darcy, that you are in love with a dream? With a bewitching creature who exists only in your imagination?”

Darcy’s face was in his hands. “I suppose that is possible,” his muffled voice answered.

“On the other hand, it could be that your intuition is correct,” said his cousin. “It’s not as though you lose your heart every day, Darce. In fact, I don’t think you have ever fallen in love before, have you? And we both know that you have no imagination whatsoever.” Darcy lifted his head and glared.

Richard went on as if he hadn’t noticed. “Maybe your heart is telling you that she’s the one.” Richard leaned forward and put his hand on Darcy’s arm. “Do you have the courage to find out? I think you need to know. You certainly cannot go on like this.”

Darcy raised his head. “Perhaps…. yes. Yes, you’re right. One way or another, I have to know, even if it comes to nothing.”

“How could you meet Miss Bennet again? What excuse can you have for visiting Hertfordshire?” asked the Colonel.

Darcy set his chin on one hand and considered the idea for several long moments. “Her cousin, who was a guest at Longbourn at the time I was at Netherfield, is Aunt Catherine’s rector. He is an obsequious, toadying man, and also an irksome gossip. When we are at Rosings, I could call on him and see if what news he has of his relations. There is also the possibility that Bingley has followed his heart back to Netherfield. If he has, I may be able to pay him a visit. If he is courting Miss Bennet, it would only be natural for me to spend time in the company of her family,” he mused aloud.

As he spoke, a hint of anticipation began to warm his voice. He was on firmer ground now, used to executing events, not passively reacting to them. He felt a little of his long-lost equilibrium returning, until he thought of Georgiana.

His heart plummeted. ”Of course, I couldn’t even consider visiting her until I speak with Georgie. Any connection to the Bennet family could damage her future prospects.”

Richard rolled his eyes. “So, are you ready to speak with your sister about Miss Bennet? Georgie has grown up a great deal this year. And she has been worried about you. You need to be her brother, not her father or uncle. Treat her as an equal.”

“I do owe it to her,” Darcy admitted. He looked at Richard. “Georgiana said I called her Elizabeth? Not Miss Elizabeth or Miss Bennet?”

“Elizabeth,” said Richard. Darcy groaned and wondered what else he might have said in Georgie’s presence.

“Are you ready to face her?” asked Richard. “Or do you need some time to collect yourself?”

“Now, I think,” responded Darcy. “I gather she is waiting for us?”

“She is waiting for _you_. This is an important conversation for you both, I believe, and I should stay out of your way,” smiled Richard. Both gentlemen rose from the sofa. Richard put his arm around Darcy’s shoulders and steered him firmly toward the door. They walked to the music room, where Georgiana was waiting. Richard propelled his cousin through the door and closed it behind him.

***

Georgiana, seated on a settee, looked up at him and smiled. “Would you care for some tea, Fitzwilliam?” “Er, yes, Georgie, some tea would be nice.” He sat down next to her, avoiding her eye.

Georgiana had the unaccustomed feeling of being in control of the situation.

It had always been Fitzwilliam taking charge before; advising her, making plans for her, giving her direction. The one time she had made a decision for herself had been when she had decided to trust George Wickham. What a _monstrous_ mistake that had been. And her brother, as usual, had had to take over her life. She had felt like such a failure. She still wasn’t quite over it.

But Georgiana had realized, once the hurt and humiliation began to fade, that she was the wiser for it. And stronger. She had grown. She had learned valuable lessons about human nature and about herself. Her brother still tried to shelter her and would never discuss the affair out of concern for her feelings. Fitzwilliam apparently thought that if it wasn’t spoken of, she would forget it.

Mrs. Annesley had encouraged her to talk, and talk she had, for days and weeks and months. She had shed countless tears. The older lady had helped her to work through her feelings, and to think about how she wished her future husband to be, and her life to be like.

She wondered, in fact, if she now understood more about love than Fitzwilliam did. She handed him a cup of tea and considered how to begin. She looked sideways at her brother. He sat sipping his tea, his eyes moving about the room as if he’d never seen it before, looking anywhere but at her. She took a breath.

“I’ve been worried about you, Fitzwilliam,” she said, keeping her voice casual. “So I understand,” he answered quietly. “I am sorry to have caused you any concern, dearest.”

She waited a moment for him to continue, but he did not, so she carried on. “Fitzwilliam,” said Georgiana calmly, “tell me about her.”

Keeping his voice carefully level, Darcy gave a brief and rather dry description of Elizabeth. Georgiana sipped her tea and listened carefully. Her brother was going to need some prompting if she was to understand what was truly in his heart.

“What color are her eyes?” she asked casually. “They are dark brown,” he answered, gazing into the distance, “with gold flecks. Although they flash sparks sometimes.”

She chuckled. “At you?” she asked.

Darcy looked at her for the first time. He smiled ruefully. “At me, I believe. I don’t think she liked me, Georgie.”

“I don’t think sparks are necessarily bad, Fitzwilliam. In fact, they are probably good. It means she reacts to you. That is far better than indifference.”

He set his cup down and looked at her seriously. “Georgie, she comes from a different kind of society than ours.”

“Her father is a gentleman, is he not?”

“Well, yes, but they are a country family with a small estate.”

“We are a country family, Fitzwilliam,” she answered lightly, with a slight movement of her head indicating their surroundings. “Isn’t it merely a matter of the size of the estate?”

“No, Georgie, it isn’t,” her brother responded. ”Her mother’s father was a solicitor. She has one uncle who is a solicitor and another who is in business. And the behavior of some of her family members is lacking in decorum, to say the least. You do understand why it goes against my better judgment to pursue a courtship with her?”

Georgie looked him levelly in the eye. “No, Fitzwilliam, I do not. Not if you love her.”

Taken aback, Darcy made an effort to take control. “Georgie,” he began in a condescending tone, “I don’t think you understand how important making the right marriage is to preserving family reputation….”

“Fitzwilliam,” interrupted Georgiana, “I do understand. I have listened to talk of the importance of honor and duty and rank all of my life. I have thought long and hard about marriage and the expectations of society and family.”

She coolly looked him in the eye. “I am not a child anymore, Fitzwilliam. I have made mistakes, but I have learned from them. I have examined my life and considered how I wish to live. I have seen married couples of our acquaintance who can barely tolerate being in the same room with their spouse, yet their marriages are considered successful. They have children, yet they spend little or no time with them. If a man or woman of rank cannot choose their spouse based on affection and love, what good is rank, or property, or influence? What good is it all if one cannot choose to build a life around a happy family? “

“So… what if I were to marry Miss Bennet?” His tone was defensive. “There are people of the ton who would look askance at that. Perhaps, as a result, you may not meet the right people when it is your turn to come out,” he countered.

“You are beginning to sound like Aunt Catherine! Or worse, Caroline Bingley! If any young man and his family are going to judge me and find me wanting based on that, then I am not sure I want to come out at all. Is this truly what tonnish society is like, Fitzwilliam? Are there no friendships, only alliances? Are people constantly calculating who can benefit them the most, and calling it honor? Where does discretion end, and avarice begin? The Darcys are an old family. Surely centuries of tradition won’t crumble if one of us follows his heart?” she answered.

More silence. Finally, Georgiana spoke, “You deserve to love and be loved, Fitzwilliam. We all do.”

Darcy was frowning. Twice within an hour, he had been compared to Lady Catherine. And now to Miss Bingley? Did his behavior resemble either lady? Aunt Catherine used her rank as a weapon, as a tool to wield power and manipulate others. Miss Bingley desired to raise her rank so she could do the same. They both ran roughshod over anyone in their way. _Surely_ he wasn’t like that?

“Now, Fitzwilliam, _truly_ tell me about her. What is it about her that attracted your notice? When did she capture your heart? What is she really like? Would I like her?” Georgina took his hand and squeezed it. “From your letters I know she loves music, and walking outdoors, and dancing. But that is not all there is to know about her, is it?

Darcy thought about Elizabeth. When had she captured his heart? When had he first seen her? Again, images flashed before his mind’s eye. The assembly in Meryton.  Bingley had wanted to introduce them and he had refused with ill grace. Suddenly a forgotten picture from that evening popped into his mind; Elizabeth smirking at him from across the room, her eyes dancing with mischief. _What was that about?_ At that point he had not so much as spoken to her.

After a few moments, he mused aloud, “As to when I lost my heart to her, I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words that laid the foundation. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun. Once I knew that, I tried to ignore it. Then I tried to talk myself out of it. But my heart won out over my head.”

“I guess your heart is smarter than your head, then,” smirked his sister. Darcy stared at her. What had become of his shy, tongue-tied little sister? “When did you get to be so impertinent, young lady?”

Georgiana rolled her eyes at him and waited. Darcy thought about his sister’s questions. What was Elizabeth really like? Finally, not really knowing what to say, he plunged in.

“I think you would like her very much. Georgie, I have to confess that I did not spend a lot of time conversing with her, but I did enjoy observing her. I’ve spent _no_ time alone with her of course. There are times I’ve wondered if I dreamt it all.”

He leaned back against the cushions. “I do know her to have a mischievous sense of humor. In fact, I have come to believe that she hides her deepest feelings behind her facetiousness. She loves to read; poetry, novels, essays, anything. She is very intelligent but from what I understand was rather haphazardly educated.  She loves the countryside and the outdoors. You would like this about her: she doesn’t concern herself overmuch about society’s expectations. She is her unaffected true self.” An involuntary sigh escaped him. “I’ve never met anyone like her.”

Georgiana watched her brother as he spoke. His eyes were far away, and a glow was beginning to warm them.  An occasional small smile touched his lips as he spoke. She decided she would like Miss Bennet very much, for her personal attributes but most of all because she sounded like just the woman Fitzwilliam needed. And because he loved her.

“Fitzwilliam,” Georgiana said softly, so as not to startle him in his reverie. “She sounds perfect for you. You really must renew your acquaintance with her. I want you to be happy. Richard said the same, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did,” admitted Darcy.

“Are you going to call on her?”

He considered. His mind again returned to the starry night he’d decided that it was impossible to pursue her. He contemplated the reactions of his cousin and sister to the question.

Who exactly was he trying to please? He wanted to ask Elizabeth for a courtship, and then marry her. Would she have him? Was she still angry with him over Wickham? Had Wickham…? No, he wouldn’t even consider that.

He looked at his sister. “I might. It still goes against my better judgment. What would you think if I did ask her for a courtship?”

Georgiana squealed and clapped her hands. “I can’t wait to meet her, Fitzwilliam! When can you start?”

Darcy stared at her for a moment, and then laughed out loud. Georgie’s heart soared. She hadn’t heard her brother laugh since the summer. She began to laugh, too.

Richard, who had had his ear to the door, opened it and put his head around. “May I join the party?” he teased.

“Yes, Richard, but only if you promise not to be gloomy and cross,” said Fitzwilliam with an innocent face. Georgie and Richard stared at each other. Fitzwilliam had made a joke! They all burst out laughing, and Georgiana began to slice the cake.

The three spent the rest of the day relaxed in each other’s company. Georgiana and Richard had tacitly agreed to prevent Fitzwilliam from retreating into his isolation, and they were both relieved to perceive an easing of his manner as the day progressed.

When they said their goodnights, Darcy thought optimistically that he might sleep deeply. However, Elizabeth Bennet had not loosened her hold on his nocturnal life. He once again found himself waking abruptly from a fevered dream of impassioned lovemaking. Darcy lay on his back, his palms over his eyes, his fingers entangled in his damp, sweaty hair. _Richard is wrong_. _I have altogether too much imagination._


	9. "An unguarded expression of absolute horror"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your comments! Here is the next installment. Enjoy!

 

Gilbert woke with a start. Sleepily he realized that he and Louisa were still in the carriage, traveling from Reading to Bath. Louisa was sitting across from him, gracefully upright and ladylike, poring over some handwritten pages, her head slightly tilted in concentration. How, he wondered, could she look so fresh and lovely, when they had had so little sleep the night before? How could she even concentrate?

Louisa felt his eyes on her and looked up to meet his gaze. ”Sleeping Beauty awakes,” she said softly, a tender smile spreading across her face. Gilbert snorted and struggled to sit up. “What are you reading with such a serious expression, my dear?” he asked, brushing his coat and straightening his cravat.

She set the pages on her lap. “I was rereading the notes I made after we visited Mrs. Wetherby’s school yesterday. The curriculum seems to be all that one could wish, the teachers are superb, but I have my doubts as to whether Mrs. Wetherby can handle Lydia.”

“Don’t you think Miss Lydia will stay on her best behavior once she is settled in school?” asked Gilbert. “My understanding was that she is greatly anticipating transforming herself into an educated young lady.”

“Oh, I agree, Gilbert! However, she has a strong personality, and even with the best of intentions, I am persuaded that she will need a headmistress who is more strong-willed than she.” Louisa leaned back against the cushions and sighed. “We will have to make our acquaintance with Madame de Castellane, and see how she runs her academy. Both schools have excellent reputations.”

Louisa watched the scenery through the carriage window for several minutes. “I am looking forward to seeing Bath again. I haven’t been there since Susan and I went to visit her aunt during a school holiday.” She turned mischievous eyes toward her husband. “Shall we take the waters, Gilbert?”

“To drink, no. But perhaps if there is a bathing pool for two, my love,” he said wickedly, waggling his eyebrows.

***

A few days after his arrival, the Colonel and Mr. Darcy made ready to travel to Rosings. It was a long journey to Kent, and an annual responsibility that the cousins did not enjoy, but undertook as a family obligation. The two gentlemen also looked forward to seeing their cousin Anne de Bourgh, who was in fragile health and rarely left the estate. On their annual visit Darcy and Richard checked the estate records, rode the grounds, conferred with the steward, visited the tenants, and inspected the farm operations. They tolerated their aunt’s overbearing haughtiness and pomposity for three weeks each year.  The duty had fallen upon them since Lady Catherine had alienated every other relative she had.

The day of departure arrived. The coach was waiting outside the front entrance as Darcy gathered up some papers from his study. Colonel Fitzwilliam put his head around the door. “Do you have everything you need, Darce?” he asked.

Darcy glanced up at him. “I do now, Richard. The sooner we go, the sooner we get this year’s visit over with, and the sooner I can visit the Reverend Mr. Collins. I cannot believe how much I am anticipating an interview with that fawning imbecile!”

The two gentlemen left the study and proceeded down the hall and down the stairs. A few words of farewell to Mrs. Reynolds and they were out the door. Darcy stopped short at the sight before him.

Georgiana was standing by the coach, dressed for travel, watching her trunk being loaded onto the carriage. She turned to her brother and smiled. “I have decided to accompany you this year, gentlemen. I’ve been remiss in my own responsibilities toward our family.”

“Georgie,” began her brother, when he was interrupted by their cousin. “Why, Georgie, I think that is a capital idea! I’m sure Anne would be very happy to see you!”

“Thank you, Richard. I am very much looking forward to seeing her. I haven’t visited Rosings since before I went to school,” smiled Georgiana.

“Is that your only reason for accompanying us?” asked her brother suspiciously.

“Of course not, Fitzwilliam,” she replied. “I want to know what you find out about Miss Bennet.”

Taking Richard’s proffered hand, she climbed into the carriage. Darcy sighed. “Did you know about this, Richard?” he asked, turning to face his cousin.

“No,” admitted Richard. “But I think it’s a good idea. It would do both Anne and Georgiana good to get to know each other better. They are the only female cousins, after all. And we _all_ want to know what you find out about Miss Bennet. I’m surprised Mrs. Reynolds didn’t decide to accompany us as well.”

***

As they traveled toward Kent, they drove into springtime. The air was warmer, the earth was greener, and the roads in better condition the farther south they went. Their route to Kent took them through Hertfordshire, but nowhere close to Meryton. Even so, Darcy was sorely tempted to diverge from their itinerary to at least drive through the village to see if he could catch a glimpse of her. However, Lady Catherine was waiting.

They arrived at Rosings early in the evening on the third day of travel. The butler met them at the door and conducted them to their rooms so they could dress for dinner. Lady Catherine and Anne received them in a parlor near the dining room.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a large woman with a heavy-boned countenance and a ringing voice, bellowed at them. “Here you are at last! You have kept me waiting. Georgiana, even though you did not do me the favor of informing me of your visit, I am pleased to see you. I understand you are alone with servants much of the time at Pemberley.  It will do you good to spend time with a young lady of your own station; the better to have the distinction of rank preserved. ”

Georgiana looked at her cousin and smiled, and Anne smiled back, obviously pleasantly surprised to see her. She hadn’t seen Anne for several years, and was immediately dismayed by what she saw. Anne had always been small and fine-boned, with a pale complexion and oversized hazel eyes. She was over ten years older than Georgiana, but in terms of height, Georgiana had shot past her cousin by the time she was twelve. Anne had never developed a womanly figure, and in many respects looked almost childlike.

Now Anne, still pale and small, was thinner and had shadows under her eyes. She was wrapped in a thick wooly shawl to fend off the cold, even though it was warm springtime in Kent. Georgiana felt glad that she had come, but also that she had been neglectful. She should have visited Anne before, and corresponded with her. She promised herself to make up for lost time.

Lady Catherine stared imperiously at Darcy till he started and moved to offer her his arm. Grinning, Richard took Anne’s and Georgiana’s arms, and they moved into the dining room. Their aunt asked them about their journey, and inquired as to the names of the inns they had stayed at along the way. She of course found fault with their choices, listing the names of other establishments that were superior, and where they could drop her name. She informed them of more direct highways they should have taken. She held forth on the weather, inferring that they had been careless to allow so much snow to fall on Derbyshire over the winter. She asked Georgiana about her music and instructed her to practice every day. Georgiana politely agreed, but the smirk on Anne’s face caught her eye. She looked at Anne and was rewarded by a broad wink.

When she paused for breath, Richard asked his aunt how she liked her new rector, who had come to the parish since their last visit. Her heavy visage grew thunderous. “After all I have done for him, ungrateful wretch, he will be leaving my parish in a few months’ time. He has come into an inheritance of a small estate in Hertfordshire. Mr. Collins’ cousin, a Mr. Bennet, has died, and the estate is entailed away from his daughters. Mr. Collins visited them last November. I had instructed him to marry, and he was to have chosen one of his cousin’s daughters, but he married another lady from the neighborhood instead. Now I must go to the trouble of finding another clergyman for the parish.”

***

Lady Catherine now had the complete attention of her guests.

Mr. Darcy, the color draining from his face, asked his aunt, “Do you know the name of the estate, Aunt Catherine?”

“Oh, it is Longacre or Longview or Longbourn or some such thing. It is very small, hardly worth mentioning, except that I will soon lose my parson.” Darcy sat frozen, staring down at his plate.

Richard, eyeing his cousin’s reaction, sought more information. “Do you know anything of the Bennet family, Aunt?”

“I know that they have five daughters, their mother is of inferior birth, and that they have very small dowries. With such low connections and little money, I expect they will go to their relatives until situations can be found for them.”

Georgiana was also watching her brother with concern. He sat with a rigid posture, breathing slowly and deeply as if to calm himself, his eyes averted. For the rest of the interminable meal he sat silently, pushing his food around his plate but not taking a single bite. Richard, with one eye on Darcy, kept the conversation going with occasional help from Georgiana and Anne. Lady Catherine was oblivious to the change in the atmosphere, giving her small audience the benefit of her opinions and advice for the remainder of the repast.

Anne _had_ noticed, and her sharp, curious gaze went from one of her cousins’ faces to the next for the rest of the dinner.  At the conclusion of the meal, the travelers begged their hostess’ pardon, claiming exhaustion from their journey and retired for the night.

***

Darcy went to his chamber and closed the door behind him, reeling from the news his aunt had so carelessly announced. He paced the floor, his fingers pressed against his temples, trying to digest the information and sort out what to do. Elizabeth was being forced to leave her home? Her family split up and sent to relatives? Where would she go? Where was she _now_?

There was a quiet rap on the door, and then Georgiana peered around it. “Fitzwilliam! May I come in?” Not waiting for a reply, she closed the door behind her and ran into the room to embrace her brother. “Oh, Fitzwilliam, I’m sure everything will be all right! Aunt Catherine said Mr. Collins wouldn’t take possession of Longbourn for weeks yet! Perhaps the Bennets are still there! There must be _something_ we can do for them!”

There was another knock on the door, and Richard quickly and quietly slipped in. “Well, Darcy, that is bad news! What do you think your next move should be?”

Yet another tap, and this time Anne peeked around the door. “What has happened? You’ve all clearly heard something that has shocked you! Especially you, Fitzwilliam! What is it?”

Richard, Georgiana, and Darcy froze.

Darcy was somewhat off balance. He had been staggered by the news and he didn’t wish to speak to _anyone_. His immediate instinct was to saddle a fast horse and ride straight through the night to Longbourn. He didn’t even wish to speak about it with Richard and Georgiana, much less Anne!

Yet, here she was, and given that Aunt Catherine had been filling her head with visions of their marriage since she was a little girl, the time had come to disabuse her of that notion. Darcy took a deep breath and sank down on the edge of the bed. “Anne, let us sit down. We need to have a conversation that is long overdue.”

Anne plopped down on a chair, smirking. “The only possible topic of conversation that could involve you and me, Fitzwilliam, is that balderdash my mother spouts about our so-called betrothal. We all know that that is a _complete_ humbug!”

Three sets of eyes stared at her.

“You _knew_ that I never intended…, that we…, that a marriage between us is out of the question?” stammered Darcy. “I mean…, Anne, I don’t wish to injure your feelings, but…,” he went on, stumbling badly.

Anne briefly considered letting her cousin ramble helplessly but chose to be merciful.

“Fitzwilliam, I’ve never paid any attention to that ridiculous idea. We would never suit, of course, even if either of us had the slightest interest in the other. Now, is anyone going to tell me what you are all so upset about, or am I going to have to drag it out of you?”

Georgiana looked at her brother, now sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at the floor, his hands dangling between his knees. She decided to intervene. “Anne, Fitzwilliam is acquainted with the Bennet family that is being forced out of their home so Mr. Collins can take possession of it. We have spent the last few months snowbound at Pemberley, so he did not know Mr. Bennet had died. He is surprised and saddened by the news. We all are.”

“I _see_. The family that has only daughters, and very lovely ones at that, according to Mrs. Collins,” said Anne, carefully gauging their reactions. She took a gamble. “Which one has Fitzwilliam lost his heart to?” she asked.

Richard quickly spoke up, gallantly trying to shield his cousin’s raw emotions. “Upon my word, Anne, a lady’s imagination is very rapid! To jump from acquaintance to romance in just a moment!” he said lightly.

Anne scoffed at him. “That was very noble of you, Richard, and nothing less than I would expect from a stouthearted officer and stalwart friend! All right, I won’t bother you for explanations. But if you were to tell me, you know of course that I would never breathe a word of it to Mama!”

Darcy raised his head and looked at Anne. _How dull it must be for her here_. She had no one to talk to but her mother and Mrs. Jenkinson. She had no one close to her own age, except perhaps Miss Lucas, now Mrs. Collins. Darcy remembered her to be well-bred and kind, with a sense of humor. She was Elizabeth’s closest friend.  

So Elizabeth had lost her father and the presence of her dearest friend. How she must be suffering!

Although it went against all his instincts, Darcy understood that he could trust Anne’s discretion. He looked up and met Georgiana’s eyes. She gave a slight nod of encouragement.

“Anne,” he began awkwardly, “I visited my friend Bingley in the autumn of last year. He had leased an estate in Hertfordshire near Longbourn, the estate that Mr. Collins has inherited. It is a small neighborhood, and during my visit I became familiar with some of the local families. I am acquainted with the Bennet family.” He paused, still having difficulty sharing his feelings, having in his mind shared them with too many already. “The Bennet sisters are indeed lovely young ladies, and I did come to admire one of them in particular.”

Anne’s eyes lit up with interest. “What is her name? Are you courting her, Fitzwilliam?” she asked.

Darcy chose his words carefully, keeping his voice even. “Her name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I am not courting her.”

“Whyever not?” cried Anne incredulously. “Did she refuse you?”

Richard snorted, and Darcy silenced him with a look. “Anne, at the time I determined that her family was… not of the same society that…”

Anne interrupted her cousin scornfully. “Fitzwilliam Darcy! You sound just like my mother!”  

Darcy, discomposed, looked appealingly at Richard, who was biting down hard on his tongue, trying to keep a straight face. With an effort, he continued, “Anne, please let me finish. Since then, I have reconsidered, and I had hoped to visit her and ask for a courtship. That is, until I heard the news of her father’s death. Now I need to discover her family’s situation. I still wish to pay my addresses to her, Anne, but I know not what they are suffering at the present.” His voice trailed off.

Anne gazed at Darcy, her expression changed from incredulity to sympathy. She rose from her chair and sat down beside him, patting his arm. “Thank you for sharing your feelings with me, Fitzwilliam. I do believe you will win her,” she said softly.

Darcy smiled wanly. “Thank you, Anne. I hope so.”

Richard, noting the dark circles under Anne’s eyes, spoke up. “It is getting late. For now, let us all try to get some rest, and leave Darcy to consider what he wants to do. Not to mention, we have Rosings estate business to begin tomorrow. I suggest we all go to bed.”

They all filed out, Georgiana embracing her brother before she said goodnight. “I believe you’ll win her, too,” she whispered in his ear, and then left, closing the door behind her.

Darcy sat staring at the floor, still agitated. He heard a discreet cough and looked up. It was Talbot with his nightshirt. “Do you wish to retire for the night, sir?” the valet asked impassively. “Yes,” Darcy answered. “Yes, I do. Thank you Talbot, I’ll get undressed myself.” Talbot laid the nightshirt out on the bed. “Very good, sir” he said, and let himself out.

***

Darcy slept fitfully. By sunrise he was dressed. He sat down in the breakfast room but in his disquietude could barely manage a few bites of toast. He rose and walked outside, completely oblivious to the gentle splendor of the early spring morning.

The sun was warm, and a green haze of new grass was growing on the vast lawn. He paced back and forth in the garden, repeatedly taking out his watch and putting it back into his waistcoat pocket, waiting impatiently until such time that he could decently make a call on the parsonage. After what he had learned the night before, he was desperate to find out what the new Mrs. Collins knew of Elizabeth’s situation.

While pacing, he turned and stopped short. Georgiana stood before him. She smiled uncertainly up at him, “Fitzwilliam, let me walk with you. Perhaps the wait won’t seem so long if we share it.” Darcy again resisted his natural inclination to keep his problems to himself. He knew now that Georgiana was almost an adult, and wanted to share his burdens with him.

“Thank you, dearest,” he said, “Did I somehow disturb your sleep? You’re up very early.”

“I rose early because I thought you might, after Aunt Catherine’s worrisome news last night. You’re going to call on Mrs. Collins, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am, as soon as it is an acceptable hour to call,” he admitted.

“I hope she can put your mind at ease. Will you go and visit Miss Elizabeth and her family?”

Darcy hesitated, “I would like to. I don’t know how welcome I would be. I need to ask Mrs. Collins about that.”

Georgiana laid her hand on his arm. “Let’s walk around the grounds a little way, Fitzwilliam,” she said,” It’s a beautiful morning, and walking would be better for you than pacing I think.” Darcy smiled down at his sister. What a caring and valuable friend she was. He held out his arm to her. She took it, and they walked slowly towards the grove.

A short time later, after consulting his watch for the fiftieth time, Darcy decided that a visit was now permissible. He left Georgiana and strode toward the parsonage. She watched him go and impulsively clasped her hands together, sending up a little prayer.

***

Mr. Darcy hoped that Mrs. Collins would be home and that her husband would be out. As he approached the house, all was quiet. He did not see anyone in the garden. He walked up to the front door and knocked.

The housekeeper opened the door and ushered him into a small sitting room. Her mistress entered a few minutes later. “Mr. Darcy!” said Mrs. Collins, with a deep curtsey. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Mrs. Collins was in fact, not surprised. From the moment she became aware that Lady Catherine’s nephews always paid her an Easter visit, Charlotte has been expecting to see Mr. Darcy. “Mrs. Collins, it is a pleasure to see you. May I take the opportunity to congratulate you upon your marriage?”

Mrs. Collins inclined her head graciously. Darcy continued, “I had expected to pay a call on your husband to inquire after our mutual acquaintance in Meryton, and was delighted to discover that you were here.” Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek, struggling to keep her pleasant smile from turning into a snort. Here was Mr. Darcy, too proud to mingle with the neighborhood when he was at Netherfield, now anxiously inquiring after them. Or at least one of them.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, you are most kind,” she said. “Pray be seated. It is early yet. Have you eaten breakfast? May I offer you some refreshment?” Mr. Darcy thanked his hostess and sat down, while Mrs. Collins went to order some coffee. In a few moments, they were seated beside a low table, and Charlotte poured out coffee and served bread and fruit compote.

They sat for a moment in silence, sipping their coffee, and then Mr. Darcy began, “I did not know that you and your husband had begun a courtship while we were visiting Meryton last November.”

Mrs. Collins chuckled. “At that point in time, sir, we were not courting,” she responded. “My husband did however visit his cousins at Longbourn with the intention of choosing a wife from among the Bennet sisters, to make peace among the family and to soften the blow of the entail.”

Darcy’s brows rose at Mrs. Collins’ frank and matter-of-fact commentary. Ignoring his expression, Charlotte went on, “In fact, my husband first proposed, at the instigation of her mother, to my friend Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” Her face was downcast over her coffee cup, but she peeked at Mr. Darcy from under her lashes as she spoke.

She was rewarded by the sight of Mr. Darcy sitting motionless, his raised cup frozen inches from his lips as an unguarded expression of absolute horror spread across his face.  

She bit her lip, suppressing a chuckle. “Miss Elizabeth refused him, although from what I understand he did argue with her. It was not surprising to me, however. I have been friends with Miss Elizabeth since we were girls, and she has always maintained that she will only marry for dearest love.”

“After her refusal, Mr. Collins and I were able to come to an understanding, and we were married in December. Actually sir, after our wedding, I invited Elizabeth to Hunsford for Easter. If fate had not intervened, she would have been here right now. As it turns out we were fortunate that we had chosen to marry quickly. Shortly after we left Hertfordshire and arrived in Hunsford, the winter storms began and travel became impossible. I received letters only sporadically from my family and friends over the winter.”

Charlotte looked up at him and met his eye. “Mr. Darcy, has Lady Catherine informed you that Mr. Bennet was taken ill over Christmas, and has since died?”

Darcy swallowed and avoided her gaze, focusing on keeping his voice level. “Yes, Mrs. Collins. I was shocked and deeply saddened for the family when my aunt told me. Do you know how they are coping? I understand that Longbourn is entailed to your husband. Where will the family go? Do you know what their circumstances are?” Mr. Darcy asked, leaning forward, his voice gaining in intensity. Then he remembered himself and sat up straight again. “I must apologize, Mrs. Collins. This is clearly none of my business. It is simply an appalling situation, and I am very sorry for them.”  He sat silently, looking at the floor, still clutching the cup tightly in his hands.

Mrs. Collins quietly and deliberately set her cup and saucer down on the table and turned in her chair to face him. “Mr. Darcy, I think we can be frank with one another,” she said in a soothing voice. “Unless I am badly mistaken, you and I both share a deep concern for the Bennet family and for Miss Elizabeth in particular.” At this, Mr. Darcy’s head came up and he stared at her.

Charlotte met his gaze and went on, “I have corresponded, albeit very irregularly, with Miss Elizabeth and with my parents and my sister Maria all winter. I believe I can tell you how their situation stands. Mr. Bennet, although an intelligent and well-educated man, was never practical and did not plan ahead or provide well for his wife and daughters. Longbourn estate and its contents are entailed to my husband. What funds they are left with are not enough to provide them with a roof over their heads, or even enough for living expenses.”

“When Mr. Bennet became ill, Mrs. Bennet did not have the, er, oh dear, … let us say the emotional resources to take over his affairs and his nursing care. Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth took on most of their father’s care and Elizabeth has also been handling much of the estate business. Their younger sisters, I am relieved to say, proved to be far more helpful than anyone expected. Their uncles have also offered as much assistance as they can, although the fierce weather kept them from visiting for much of the winter.  Elizabeth, in her letters, has never complained, but my father and mother have described the extreme difficulty and trauma of her life over the past few months.”

Mrs. Collins paused, her trouble eyes staring out the window. She took a deep breath and continued, “It has been painful for me to know that Lizzy has been so deeply distressed. Out of a desire to comfort her and assist her family, I have contrived to influence your aunt to retain my husband here as long as possible. I dare say she will find it difficult to find another parson who will offer such abject loyalty and submission to her wishes,” she said with a rueful smile. “I have written to Elizabeth and informed her that we will not take possession of Longbourn until June. Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Mary all plan to seek positions as governesses or ladies’ companions to augment the family income.”

At this, Darcy set down his cup, and rose and paced back and forth in the small room, clasping and unclasping his hands. Charlotte watched him for a few moments, reminded of a tiger she had once seen in a cage at a traveling exhibition. Mr. Darcy muttered to himself, “I must go to her.”

Although that statement was not directed at Mrs. Collins, she responded. “Mr. Darcy, what are your intentions toward Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” Her expression, though not unkind, was serious and direct.

Darcy’s first instinct was to put this little parson’s wife in her place and refuse to even answer the question. Then, meeting her gaze, he understood that Mrs. Collins, Elizabeth’s dearest friend, wished to be his ally. So to his great chagrin he found himself again, for the fourth time within a fortnight, of being in the position of divulging his feelings, this time to Mrs. Collins. He did not go into the depths of his misery, and the exquisite torture of his dreams, although he uncomfortably sensed that Mrs. Collins’ intuition might possibly have filled in the details.  He only told her that he had belatedly realized his attraction to Miss Elizabeth, that she had been much on his mind, and that he wished to renew the acquaintance, with a goal of courtship. His countenance reflected his suffering as he admitted that they had been barely acquainted, and that Elizabeth would most likely not share his feelings. Indeed, she might regard them as unwelcome.

Charlotte sent up a silent prayer of gratitude that she did not share the same passionate, romantic nature of her closest friend, and of this anguished gentleman before her. She looked at him with great compassion. “Mr. Darcy, it is my belief that Miss Elizabeth was not unaffected by your presence at Netherfield last autumn. The elder Miss Bennets, having been unable to rely on their parents for counsel, are both in the habit of keeping their deepest feelings disguised.  I think that might explain some of her impertinence to you. She can be rather flippant, as I think you know. I must tell you however, that not having seen her in person since before Christmas, I cannot say how much this dark time may have altered her. I urge you to see her as soon as possible. I believe she needs someone who will cherish and care for her.”

Darcy looked into Charlotte’s plain, worried face. “There is nothing I would rather do,” he said feelingly.

Charlotte looked down at her hands, and then looked at him again. “I know you have much estate business to work through for Lady Catherine before you can go on to Hertfordshire, so I will not be offended if you wish to take your leave. I am very glad to have had this talk with you, Mr. Darcy.” She rose and offered her hand.

Darcy was gratified that Mrs. Collins understood his need to make haste. He bowed over Charlotte’s hand, “Mrs. Collins, I marvel at your frankness, and I am most humbly grateful for it. Miss Bennet is indeed fortunate to have you as a friend.”

***

Darcy walked quickly back to Rosings, his heart pumping, his mind racing, Mrs. Collins’ words swirling and dancing in his head. _She was not unaffected by your presence._ Could he court her? Would she say yes? Could she love him?

As he neared the manor house, he was seized from his absorption by the sound of his aunt’s stentorian voice. “There you are, Darcy! Where have you been? Richard and Houston are waiting for you!” Lady Catherine was standing outside the front door glaring at him, as if she had been going to hunt him down herself.

Darcy struggled to tear his mind away from Elizabeth. He really could not just gallop off and leave everything for Richard to do. He bowed slightly to his aunt, and went to the study to find his cousin.

                                                                                           ***

Several hours later, after plowing through stacks of crop reports and accounts, the three men almost staggered from the study. “Well, gentlemen, I believe we have done at least two days’ work this afternoon!” said Mr. Houston. Darcy nodded. “We will meet by the stables in the morning, and ride through the farm.”

“Yes, sir,” answered the steward, wondering what on earth all the haste was about. “I can let myself out, gentlemen,” he said, and almost ran for the door.

Richard watched him go and turned to look at his cousin. “What was all that about? You were driving us as if the devil himself was at our backs!”

“I wish to work through the estate business as quickly as possible, Richard. Then I have decided to proceed as quickly as possible to Hertfordshire. I don’t wish to take three weeks to do this work as we usually do.”

“Is this your decision based on your visit to Mrs. Collins this morning?” asked the Colonel.

“Yes,” answered Darcy, “although I was thinking of it last night. Actually, I had seriously considered leaving for Longbourn last night, but I can’t leave you to do all the estate work alone.”

“Thank you for that at least, Darcy!” Richard exclaimed.

Their aunt’s butler appeared. ”Lady Catherine is waiting for you in the saloon, gentlemen.”  Darcy looked at his watch and was startled at the time. “Thank you, Ralston. I had not realized it was so late. We will change quickly and join her there.”

***

A quarter of an hour later, they joined the ladies in the saloon. Lady Catherine was furious. “I expect you to be on time for dinner, Darcy. I am most seriously displeased. Do not be late again,” she commanded.

Darcy regarded his aunt, his expression cool. “Aunt Catherine, Richard and I spent the entire day working on Rosings estate business. A word of gratitude would be in order.” Richard’s eyebrows shot up. Anne and Georgiana, sitting side by side on the settee, exchanged startled glances. Darcy usually let his aunt’s rudeness go unremarked. Anne turned to meet her cousin’s eye and offered him a silent salute. Lady Catherine did not notice her daughter. She was too furious.

At that moment Ralston entered. “Dinner is served, my lady.”  Stiffly, Darcy offered his arm to his aunt and she took it, still glowering. Dinner conversation was sparse and frosty. After dinner, Darcy and the Colonel once again excused themselves, announcing that they intended to get a very early start in the morning.

***

No sooner had Darcy entered his chamber and closed the door behind him, then he heard a light tap. _Am I not to have any privacy?_ He stepped quickly to the door and opened it. All three of his relatives were there; Anne bent over, apparently having been trying to peer through the keyhole. He muttered an oath under his breath, but stood aside and silently gestured them in, resigned. Anne, Georgiana, and Richard quickly stepped in and Darcy quietly closed the door again behind them.

He turned to find them all settled into the same places they had been in the night before, looking at him expectantly. He regarded them helplessly. They were obviously not going to allow him to work through his dilemma alone.

“Well?” Anne finally said. “What did you learn from Mrs. Collins?”

Darcy sat down on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands steepled in front of his face. “Mrs. Collins confirmed that Mr. Bennet has died, and that his wife and daughters have been left with very little. She has also told me that Miss Elizabeth was compelled to take on a great deal of responsibility over the course of the winter, for her father’s care as well as in estate matters. Not only was their father very ill, but their mother took to her bed as well. The harsh weather often kept their family and neighbors away, unable to offer assistance.” He paused and rested his chin against his hands. “Mrs. Collins received only a few letters from Miss Elizabeth over the winter, because of the weather. She said Miss Elizabeth did not complain, but that letters she received from her own family described her suffering.”

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Mrs. Collins has also informed me that Miss Elizabeth intends to seek employment, although her uncle has asked her to delay that. I hope I can see her before she takes any steps in that direction.”

“Employment!” cried Georgiana. “Do you mean as a companion or governess?”

“I believe that is her intent, Georgie,” her brother answered somberly.

“Oh, dear,” sighed his sister.

Richard rose and took a seat next to Darcy, putting a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “We’ll get you to her as soon as humanly possible, Darce. We’ll put in a long day’s work with Mr. Houston tomorrow and every day until it is done. I’ll cheerfully let you drive me like a dog!” he quipped, squeezing Darcy’s shoulder.

One side of Darcy’s frown turned up. “Thank you, Richard. I’ll hold you to that.”

Then he looked at his sister and his cousins, his frown deepening. He took a deep breath. “Mrs. Collins also informs me that Miss Elizabeth turned down a marriage proposal shortly after I left Hertfordshire last November. Mr. Collins proposed to her, and she refused to marry him.” His voice began to rise. “That _toad_ proposed to _my_ Elizabeth!” he growled furiously, punching the pillow next to him with his fist.

“Steady on, man” soothed Richard. “She refused him. That tells us that she is not mercenary. She could have married and kept the estate in the family.”

Georgiana blinked, her expression confused. “Then how can he have courted Mrs. Collins so quickly after that?”

Anne, huddled in her heavy shawl, rolled her eyes in disgust. “My mother had instructed Mr. Collins to marry, and that one of the sisters at Longbourn would certainly agree to marry him. He was merely following orders, Georgiana, but was unsuccessful among the Bennets. He probably strolled down the road to the next house with an available daughter. What I will never understand is why Mrs. Collins accepted him!”

“Can the man be that repugnant?” asked Richard.

Anne snorted. “You may decide that for yourself on Sunday,” she told her cousin. “Actually, I am surprised he hasn’t come to the house for the introductory groveling yet.”

Georgiana’s jaw dropped slightly, and then opened in a wide grin. Richard laughed. Darcy stared at Anne, his eyebrows reaching new heights. Then, chuckling in spite of himself, he agreed. “I have met that ingratiating man, dear Anne, and now that you say it, I am also surprised he hasn’t forced his presence upon us. Perhaps we have Mrs. Collins to thank for that.”

Anne flushed with pleasure at their laughter, ducking her head briefly. “Now, Fitzwilliam,” she continued. “Is there anything that Georgie and I can do to help you and Richard complete your task?”

Georgiana brightened. “What a good idea, Anne! Perhaps we can check figures in your ledgers, or summarize the reports!”

The cousins agreed to meet in the study in the afternoon, after Richard and Darcy had ridden the estate with Mr. Houston. The four of them worked companionably together, ate together and relaxed together over the next few days. At the end of each day they met in Darcy’s bedchamber to discuss what they had accomplished and what needed to be done. Mr. Houston was, on the whole, gratified at their interest in the estate, though the young people were exhausting him.


	10. "We need a much larger bathtub"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand here's another update. Thank you for any comments or questions!

 

 

Lady Catherine was incensed. She always used her nephews’ annual visit to hold court. She was accustomed to being the center of attention everywhere she went and deemed it her right. She often tired of having only Anne, Mrs. Jenkinson, the Collins’, and a few assorted neighbors to bully about, and looked forward to their annual visit.

She had not yet taken Darcy and the Colonel to task for neglecting her, but another afternoon of being forced to endure the sole company of Mrs. Jenkinson pushed her over the edge. She marched to the study, bellowing her nephews’ names. “Darcy! Fitzwilliam! I demand to know what you are doing!” She threw open the door to the study.

Her nephews stared at her, startled. Darcy was sitting at the enormous desk that had belonged to his uncle. The Colonel stood next to him. They had been looking over a map of drainage ditches that had been dug in the fields.

Lady Catherine’s eyes took in the room. Near the desk, there was a large oaken library table covered with an enormous paisley shawl and topped with a clutter of ledgers and papers. Darcy and Richard followed her eyes to where Anne and Georgiana had been sitting seconds before. The two men exchanged questioning glances, and Richard gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“I am sorry, Aunt, but there is more than the usual amount of business to attend to this year,” said Darcy in a defensive tone. “Richard and I have much to do.”

“Well…. I suppose if you must. You have my permission, then. I will expect you to attend me after dinner this evening, however. Surely by _now_ you are rested from your journey.”

“Now, where have Anne and Georgiana gotten to?” their aunt continued.

The Colonel quietly put one hand behind his back and crossed his fingers. “I don’t know, Aunt. Perhaps Anne has taken Georgiana out in her phaeton.”

“I’m sure they will be back soon, wherever they are. I shall have them keep me company then.” said Lady Catherine, as she swept out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

For several minutes there was silence. Then a small hand grasped the edge of the great library table, followed shortly by Anne’s face, as she climbed out from underneath. She was grinning mischievously. “Come out, Georgie, the coast is clear,” she said, looking back under the table.

Another hand appeared, then Georgiana’s beaming face, as she too rose to her feet. “Upon my word, Anne, however did you learn to dive under the table so fast?” she giggled, shaking out her skirts and smoothing her hair. “I almost hit my head on the edge when you pulled me in after you!”

“Oh, I hide from Mama all the time, though not so often as when I was little. Papa used to hide with me, too!” giggled Anne. The two girls dissolved in laughter, and Georgiana impulsively swept Anne into a tight hug.

The two gentlemen exchanged astonished looks, and then burst into laughter themselves. A few minutes later, when they could catch their breath, Richard said. “You heard Aunt Catherine, ladies. We can’t avoid her much longer.”

“You’re right, Richard. Georgie, do you agree that we should attend my mother for the rest of the afternoon?” asked Anne.

“Yes, I do,” smiled Georgiana. “And tomorrow morning, let’s go for a drive in your phaeton!”

“Done and done!” agreed Anne. “We’ll see you gentlemen at dinner,” she added as the two girls left the room arm in arm, looking for Lady Catherine.

Darcy smiled after them, but then his smile faded. He turned to the Colonel, who also looking at the door after them, a thoughtful expression on his face. “What a lonely life Anne has led, Richard,” he said. “I chastise myself for never having considered it before.”

“And I as well, Darcy,” said his cousin ruefully. “But we know now, and we won’t ever neglect her again. Neither will Georgie! Now, I’ll see what the girls have accomplished over the morning, and then perhaps we should conclude our business a bit earlier today. We don’t want Aunt Catherine to be suspicious of your plans for early departure.”

Richard stepped over the table and turned the pages of the ledger where Anne had been entering figures and checking sums. He marked the page with the ribbon affixed to the binding, and then picked up the report Georgiana had been working on. “The girls are doing first rate work, Darce. Maybe they should be in charge next year,” he said. Darcy chuckled as he continued to work.

“I was unaware that I had said anything humorous,” said Richard. Darcy looked up at him skeptically and began to speak, but then stopped.

His sister had had an excellent education, and had been trained to run a large household. How different was that from running an estate? Anne was as smart as a whip, he now knew. And Elizabeth had been running Longbourn estate for months, according to Mrs. Collins. He thought of all the gentlemen he had heard talk of, who had run their estates into the ground. Hurst’s father, for one. He looked at his cousin. “I astonish myself. I am in complete agreement with you, Richard.”

                                                                                                           ***

They worked for another hour and then joined their aunt in the music room. They heard the pianoforte before they entered to see Georgiana playing with Anne seated next to her, turning the pages.

Aunt Catherine was talking loudly over the sound of the instrument, proclaiming her love of music. “There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. Had I ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. So, nephews, you deign to appear,” she said haughtily to the two men. “Anne, come over here and sit next to Darcy,” she commanded.

“I’ll turn pages for you, Georgie,” said the Colonel, as Anne resignedly rose and went to sit with her silent cousin.

Darcy rose as she approached and as her mother’s attention was temporarily diverted to Georgiana and Richard, she stuck her tongue out at him. For a second he froze, not knowing how to respond, but then he tentatively smiled at her.

“Don’t be so serious, Fitzwilliam!” Anne teased him in a low voice. “I will try, Anne,” he answered, but resumed his poker face. Lady Catherine leered at them, assuming that tender sentiments were being exchanged, and Darcy cringed inwardly. Anne batted her eyelashes at him and pulled a long face, as her mother resumed control of the conversation. A short time later, dinner was announced and they all removed to the dining room.

After dinner, they returned to the music room and Georgiana once more took her seat at the pianoforte.  Mrs. Jenkinson sat with her at the instrument, and Anne, Darcy, the Colonel, and Lady Catherine played at whist for a few hours. By the end of the evening, their aunt had been considerably mollified, and they said their goodnights with good humor.

                                                                                                             ***

Minutes later, Darcy heard the now familiar tap on his chamber door. He opened it and his cousins slipped in, sitting in their usual places. “How much more time do you think you need to complete your work, Fitzwilliam?” asked Georgiana. Darcy looked at Richard. “I think another day and perhaps half a day should do it. What say you, Richard?”

“I agree,” answered his cousin. Darcy looked warmly at his sister and cousin. “Anne, Georgiana, your assistance has been brilliant. I can never thank you enough.”

“Are you _all_ going to Hertfordshire?” asked Anne wistfully. There was a silence. They all understood that Anne was having the time of her lonely life with her cousins. Would they all be leaving her to the sole company of older women again?

“I will remain here with you, Anne, with your mother’s approval, of course,” said Georgiana. “I don’t think Fitzwilliam needs my assistance in wooing Miss Bennet.” She put her arm around Anne’s narrow shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze.

Darcy cleared his throat and turned to the Colonel. “Would you care to accompany me to Hertfordshire, Richard?” Richard looked into Darcy’s eyes and understood how completely out of his depth he was.

“I am planning on it,” said Richard, clapping his cousin on the back.

                                                                                                        ***

The next day was Saturday, and Lady Catherine was occupied, having determined to visit the dean of the diocese to personally instruct him as to her expectations of any candidates for the Hunsford living.

The two gentlemen toiled away through the morning while Anne and Georgiana went for a drive. After a light luncheon, the ladies went to the study to see what tasks were waiting for them. The four cousins worked through the afternoon, wrapping up most of the estate business.

“Anne,” said Richard, “since Darcy wishes us to leave for Hertfordshire early on Monday, perhaps you should meet with Mr. Houston and discuss the plans he is considering for Rosings this year.”

“ _I_ , Richard?” gasped Anne.

“Why not?” smiled her cousin. “You now have had an education of sorts of how Rosings works. You know more about it than your mother, I would venture to guess.”

“Richard is right,” agreed Darcy. “And don’t forget, Anne, Rosings belongs to you.”

“It belongs to _me_?” squeaked Anne.

“Of course it does! Your father left it solely to you. Has no one ever told you that?” asked Darcy incredulously.

“No. No one ever told me. I assumed Papa had left it to Mama,” Anne replied, her mind awhirl.

Richard opened a drawer of her father’s desk, and took out a small key. He then opened a small drawer  in a cabinet behind the desk, and took out a leather folder. Opening it, he removed a document and placed it in Anne’s hands. “That is your father’s will, Anne. You should read it. You should also consider keeping it in a safer place.”

Anne looked at the pages in her hands. “I will. Thank you, thank you!” She looked up, wide-eyed, into the faces of her three cousins, now her three closest friends. “This changes everything,” she said in amazement.

***

The inmates of Rosings attended church the next morning. Mr. Collins was as Darcy remembered him, all scraping and bowing and babbling flattery. He was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society. He preached a long rambling sermon, his eyes constantly moving to his patroness to be sure his monologue met her approval.

After the service, Mr. Collins perfunctorily greeted members of his congregation, impatient to hobnob with Lady Catherine and her noble guests. Mrs. Collins graciously spoke to all their parishioners, calling them each by name, remembering particulars of their lives. As they gathered around her, it was evident that they much preferred her to her husband.

While her husband listened submissively to his patroness’ evisceration of the sermon, Darcy introduced his cousin and his sister to Mrs. Collins, albeit briefly, conscious of the demands on that lady’s attention from her parishioners.

***

The Collins’, as was customary, had been invited to Rosings for dinner that evening. Mr. Darcy, as always, was seated at Lady Catherine’s right, captive to her continuing interrogation of her rector. Anne, Georgiana and Richard enjoyed talking with his wife, appreciating her wry humor and good sense.

The conversation turned to the Collins’ upcoming elevation in status to master and mistress of Longbourn. Anne asked Mr. Collins if he would be able to assuage the predicament of the Bennet family in any way.

 Mr. Collins paused for a moment and considered. “Conscious as I always am of familial obligation, I will endeavor to assist in some small ways. Yet I cannot help but feel that their situation is at least partly of their own making. My late cousin’s second daughter, when presented with the opportunity to assure her family’s future by joining me in the married state, did not choose to do so, with her father’s approbation. In spite of her manifold attractions, it is now more than probable that neither she nor her sisters will ever again receive offers of marriage. Their portions are unhappily so small, and their connections so low, it is to be wondered who, as your ladyship has condescendingly said, would connect themselves with such a family? Indeed, as a man of God, it is apparent to me that our Lord himself has chosen to correct their pridefulness by taking their father Mr. Bennet to His bosom, so that they may learn the value of humility.”

His words seemed to echo in the shocked silence. Georgiana, Richard, and Darcy stared at him, stunned that anyone, even a man of such mean understanding as Mr. Collins, could utter such offensive and mean-spirited words. Anne’s eyes flared, her expression furious, and she had opened her mouth to condemn his remarks when her mother interrupted.

“Perhaps I can offer my guidance, Mr. Collins. I will write to several of my acquaintances whom I know to have children being educated at home, and may have need of a governess. It is wonderful how many families I have been the means of supplying in that way. I am always glad to get a young person well placed out. Indeed, I found situations for two of Mrs. Jenkinson’s nieces last year.”

Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins moved on to other subjects, but none of the other diners found themselves able to overcome their shock at Mr. Collin’s callous statement.

Georgiana looked at Mrs. Collins. That gentle lady was motionless, staring at her plate, her face flaming scarlet. Overwhelmed by sympathy, Georgiana covertly reached over and took Mrs. Collin’s hand. That lady startled slightly, but then offered a wan mile as Georgiana squeezed her hand slightly.

Richard was looking at Darcy, who was fighting for control. His face was pale, especially about his mouth, and his teeth were clenched. He was gripping his knife and fork so tightly his knuckles were white. Anne caught Richard’s eye, and they began making quiet small talk. After a few moments they were able to draw Darcy in, and he forced himself to carry on an unexceptionable conversation, managing to make it through the rest of the interminable meal.

After dinner, the assembled company sat in the drawing room. Georgie sang and played while Mrs. Collins turned the pages. As the party began breaking up, Darcy announced to his aunt that he and Richard had been called away to town on business, but that Georgiana would stay to keep Anne company. Richard would return with the carriage in a few days to collect Georgiana.

Lady Catherine scowled, red-faced, at her nephew. “This is not to be borne! What business is it? Who sent for you? I saw no letter arrive for you, Darcy!”

“I received the message yesterday while you were visiting the dean, Aunt,” Darcy lied smoothly, his eyes avoiding Richard’s smirking face. “And the business is confidential.”

Lady Catherine stormed and threatened her nephew, but he would not be moved. “Rosings estate business has been concluded for this year, Aunt,” he said implacably. “There are other pressing matters I must attend to. Richard and I will leave first thing tomorrow.”

As Mrs. Collins prepared to take her leave, Mr. Darcy moved to say his farewells to her, wishing to make it clear that he in no way blamed her for her husband’s outrageous utterances. “Mrs. Collins, I am very glad to have seen you before I take my leave. I must thank you again for your kindness to me.”

Charlotte looked at him, still struggling with her embarrassment, but she smiled tentatively. “And yours to me, Mr. Darcy,” her cheeks flushing again.

“Are you and the Colonel going to Longbourn?” she asked. “If you are, I wonder if I could beg you the great favor of taking a letter I have written to Miss Elizabeth.” She fished in her reticule and brought out a sheet of paper sealed with a wafer. She held it out to him, smiling up at him and meeting his eyes fully.

Darcy immediately understood that she was giving him an excuse to call on Elizabeth. He smiled back at her. “Thank you, Mrs. Collins, he said quietly. “I will be only too happy to take it to her.” He took the letter and tucked it in his inside coat pocket.

Mrs. Collins stepped away from him. “Thank you, sir. I have had no word from her since her father’s death, and I am a trifle concerned.” She banished the worried expression from her face with a bright smile. “Goodbye, Mr. Darcy.”

“Goodbye, Mrs. Collins,” he said, bowing over her hand.

                                                                                                             ***

The four cousins once more assembled in Darcy’s room after the Collins’ had gone home.

”Nice work, Darcy!” laughed Richard. “We’ll make a liar of out you yet!”

“I should say not,” said Darcy, who nonetheless was looking quite satisfied with himself.

He turned to Anne. ”Anne, when Richard returns to fetch Georgie, I hope you will come with them. We will go to Meryton first to discover how things stand with Miss Bennet’s family. Richard will either return here from there or from London. Either way, Georgie and I would like you to come and stay with us for as long as you would like.”

“My mother would also love to have you stay with her, Anne. She’s wanted to pry you from your mother’s clutches for quite some time!” said Richard.

 Anne’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I would love to come to London! I haven’t been there since I went with Papa over fifteen years ago!”

Georgiana felt happy just looking at her. “We’ll find a way, Anne!” she promised.

***

As the carriage pulled away from Rosings early the next morning, Richard looked sympathetically at his cousin. “So, Darcy, how are you?” he asked.

Darcy shook his head and gave a short laugh that sounded more like a groan. “Full of trepidation, Richard. I just know I need to see her,” he answered. “But I am unsure of how difficult it will be. Mrs. Collins says that Miss Elizabeth will only marry for love. And now with her family in such distress, how can I even think of asking her for a courtship?” he continued, somewhat dispiritedly. “I need to find her, see if I can assuage her suffering, and then somehow make her fall in love with me.” He looked at his cousin with a wan smile.

“Mrs. Collins didn’t discourage you from seeing her,” said Richard encouragingly.

“No, she didn’t,” said Darcy. ”She urged me to go to her. She even said that she thought Elizabeth was not unaffected by our acquaintance last year.”

“That is good news, then,” replied Richard. “There’s hope for you yet, Darce!” Darcy smiled slightly. He was still worried and anxious over what he would find at Longbourn. The two gentlemen sat quietly for long intervals, occasionally chatting about Anne or Georgiana, until Darcy remembered another thing that had been troubling him.

“Richard,” said Darcy slowly, “am I really like Aunt Catherine?”

Richard’s immediate reaction was to snort, but the apprehension on Darcy’s face stopped him.

“No, Darce,” he said consolingly, ”not really. You have always been very… conscious of rank, as our aunt is. You have a tendency to judge others depending whether you consider them above or below you in society. But where Aunt Catherine abuses the privileges of her rank, you have always seen yours as a great responsibility.”

Richard paused briefly, choosing his words with care. “However, I _was_ concerned for you when I discovered that you were willing to give up the only woman you have ever loved because of her connections.” Darcy stared out the window, frowning ferociously, but did not answer.

“You know cuz, family gossip has it that you were a very sensitive, emotional child.” Darcy turned to look at him, confused at the change in subject.

“My mother,” continued the Colonel, “always felt that your parents’ emphasis on your status was at least partly to curb your naturally passionate nature. Mama loved your parents, they were all that is good, but she always worried that in impressing upon you the importance of duty and self-control befitting your station, they were causing you to suppress your natural feelings too much. I find myself in agreement with her.”  

Darcy nodded slowly. Richard smiled at him, impulsively leaning over and squeezing his arm. “That is another great difference between you and Aunt Catherine. You have the ability to love.”

***

As the gentlemen rode to Hertfordshire, their cousins were also traveling. Having briefed Mr. Houston on their work and discussing his suggestions for improvements on the property, Anne was driving her phaeton into Hunsford with Georgiana at her side.

“Do you have an errand in the town, Anne?” asked Georgiana.

“I do, and I would like your assistance, Georgie,” said Anne. “I am going to visit Mr. Kendrick, Mama’s solicitor. I have business for him.”

Georgiana was immediately curious. “How can I possibly be of any assistance to you?” she asked.

“Now that I know that Rosings is mine, I need to make a will.”

“Oh, Anne,” cried Georgiana, “do you really feel the need…”

Anne interrupted her cousin. “Yes, I believe it is important that I do so.” She looked at Georgiana seriously. “Georgie, do you think I am unaware of the state of my own health? My mother could outlive me. Rosings has been my only home. _I_ will determine its future.”

“Anne, you do understand that I am not of age,” said Georgiana.” I cannot even be a witness for you, although I offer you my full support.”

“Your support is what is important to me,” smiled Anne. “I really have no idea how to run my own affairs. Your presence and friendship give me some much needed courage.” Within minutes they pulled up before a red brick building at the center of the village.

Mr. Kendrick was surprised to see the ladies, and fortunately was able to put aside his work and attend to them. He was shocked to learn that Anne had never been apprised of her status as the sole owner of Rosings estate, and very pleased that she had come to him. They spent an hour in discussion of her father’s will. With Mr. Kendrick’s two clerks as witnesses, they made Anne a brief will that would serve until they could meet again to make a more detailed version.

By the end of their visit, Anne was clearly exhausted. Georgie drove them back to Rosings, where Anne spent the balance of the day resting while Georgiana read aloud to her.

***

 

Mr. and Mrs. Hurst were traveling again, leaving Bath and returning to Netherfield. They were seated on the same side of the carriage, their arms around each other, Gilbert stroking Louisa’s hair. “Bath was lovely,” Louisa sighed.

“Yes, my dear. I think we need to honeymoon there again someday,” agreed Gilbert dreamily.

“And I think Madame de Castellane’s school will meet our requirements nicely. She seems to be a remarkably strong woman. I believe she will be good for both Kitty and Lydia.”

Gilbert nodded absently, his mind elsewhere. After several minutes, he said thoughtfully, “You know my dear, I am of the opinion that we need a much larger bathtub.”

***

Mr. Darcy had considered sending an express to Netherfield to apprise Bingley of his imminent arrival, but he had no idea if Bingley was in Hertfordshire or in London. He knew he could find rooms at the inn in Meryton if Netherfield was closed, and so he and the Colonel made with all speed for Hertfordshire.

The next afternoon, Darcy’s carriage drew up to Netherfield, and to his relief, the house looked occupied. He and Richard alighted from the coach and walked up to the front door. Darcy was feeling no little embarrassment about the impropriety of arriving without notice, added to his worry over what kind of reception he would receive. It had been several months since he had seen his dear friend. He hoped Charles had received the express he had sent in February. The butler ushered both men into the saloon, and went looking for Mr. Bingley.

Within a few minutes, Bingley stepped into the room, a wide smile on his face. His smile faded slightly when he saw the effects of the winter on his friend’s countenance, and as he shook Darcy’s hand, he very briefly met the Colonel’s gaze with raised eyebrows.

“Darcy, I am so very glad to see you! Please do not trouble yourself about visiting us without notice! Our home is always open to you, and to you as well Colonel! Have you come from London?”

The Colonel was smiling, too. Obviously, Bingley’s life had taken a turn for the better, despite the black armband he wore over his coat sleeve. The last he had seen of Bingley was on Christmas night, when he had observed a man in a deep state of melancholy.

“Bingley, we are both very glad to find you here. We have come from Kent, where we were making our annual visit to our aunt whose estate is near Hunsford. My aunt’s parson is married to the former Miss Charlotte Lucas. She informed us of Mr. Bennet’s demise, and we came as soon as we could to offer our condolences and assistance to the family. Is there anything we can do?”

It did not escape Bingley’s notice that the Colonel was doing all the talking. He knew Darcy to be somewhat shy in large groups, but he had never known him to be so quiet among friends.

At the Colonel’s question, Bingley’s face became somber again, and he invited to gentlemen to sit with him in his study. After they had settled themselves into armchairs by the fire, Mr. Bingley began to describe the events of the previous month. He described how Mr. Hurst had come home after hearing the news of Mr. Bennet’s death at a business meeting. He described the mourning family and their dire circumstances, and how they had passed the winter. Finally, Darcy spoke.

“That is similar to what Mrs. Collins said. She said that the family has had an extremely traumatic time; that they must vacate Longbourn and are distressed financially. I wish to do whatever I can for them.”

Bingley looked at his friend. “Darcy, I was on my way to Longbourn when I received your letter. I had already made up my mind to see if Miss Bennet would accept me. I must tell you that your opinions on that subject meant a great deal to me. After the funeral, with the approval of her uncle, I made her an offer. She accepted me! Her feelings towards me had not changed, and she forgave me for leaving Netherfield so abruptly last November.”

At this, Darcy shifted in his chair uncomfortably, but it was obvious that his friend had forgiven him, and a slight smile appeared on his face.

“Oho, Bingley, that is good news in the midst of all this sadness!” cried the Colonel. “Please allow me to congratulate you! When is the wedding?”

Bingley beamed. “We were married almost a fortnight ago! I cannot express to you how delighted I am to be married to my angel, and to take care of her and her family in their hour of need! It is all I could ever have wished for!”

“You are already married?” gasped Darcy in astonishment.  

“Yes,” said Bingley, his voice once more growing serious, “While the propriety of such a quick wedding is clearly debatable, once Jane and I discussed the situation, the needs of the family, and our longstanding attachment, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.”

“What of _your_ family?” asked Darcy. “Did you consult them?”

“My sister Louisa and her husband gave their hearty approval and indeed were instrumental in bringing it about. They had been encouraging me all winter to visit Jane as soon as the weather would permit. They were here for several days, assisting the family, and arrived only a day after I did. They have become friends with Mrs. Bennet’s brother and sister-in-law, and wished to be of service to the family. Caroline, well, no doubt she will disapprove, but she has been staying with Baroness Riverton for almost four months now, and given that she hasn’t responded to any of Louisa’s letters, we are not one jot concerned with her opinions!”

Darcy felt as if the planet had shifted under his feet. While he had been stewing in his own juices at Pemberley, apparently everyone else had been very busy.

“Where is Mrs. Bingley now?” he asked.

“At this moment she is with her family at the dower house. We moved the family over there from Longbourn the week after the funeral. She will be back shortly.” said Bingley.

“Is the entire Bennet family living in the dower house?” asked the Colonel.

“Yes,” answered Bingley, “although Miss Elizabeth is staying in London with her aunt and uncle for at least a few months.”

He shook his head, his expression turning grave. “She had the worst of it. She took a great deal of responsibility on her shoulders during her father’s illness, and she was the closest of the daughters to him. She misses him terribly. Her mother was also very cruel to her for reasons that are hard to explain briefly. Miss Elizabeth is deeply bereaved, well, truthfully, to the point where it is almost hard to recognize her. Her aunt and uncle decided that it would be best for her to be away from home for a while.”

Darcy’s face fell, and he made no attempt to disguise his deep disappointment. “She isn’t here?” he asked. He rose suddenly and walked to the window, his back to the two other gentlemen.

Bingley’s eyes widened and he stared at Darcy, then looked at the Colonel questioningly. “Later,” mouthed the Colonel to his host.

Bingley’s speculative gaze moved back over to his friend. “Let’s get you both settled into your rooms. There will be more time later for talk after you have had a rest and dinner.”

Although Darcy desperately wanted to know more of the events of the past few weeks at Netherfield, he agreed with Bingley that it would be a good idea to retreat to his room for a while. He needed some privacy to think about what he had already learned.

Once he was in his room, however, he found that he could not relax. He took off his boots and coat, laid down on the bed, got up, paced, looked out the window, sat down, tried to read, and got up and paced some more. Finally, unable to focus on any task, he decided to go for a walk. There were still a few hours before dinner, and the day was clear.

He set out walking, but every step reminded him of his visit there the previous autumn.  He wished more than anything that Elizabeth was there to walk alongside him. He smiled at the memory of her, standing at the door of Netherfield in her muddy petticoats, her eyes bright with determination and some defiance. He walked without intention, letting his feet take their own direction, but after a time realized that he was nearing Longbourn. Within minutes the house came into view. There was no sign of activity, but the front door stood wide open. Darcy walked up to the house and looked around but saw no one. Casting a guilty glance about him to see if he was being observed, he stepped through the door.

***

There was indeed someone at Longbourn, in the person of the housekeeper, Mrs. Hill. She had come to air out the house, and to say goodbye to it, her home of over five and twenty years. She loved the house and the Bennet family, even her hysterical birdbrained mistress. Most of the staff would stay at Longbourn and work for the Collins’, but Mrs. Hill had decided to go with the Bennets to the dower house at Netherfield, and then wherever they would go after that. She liked Mrs. Collins and had known her ever since she was little Charlotte Lucas, but she was also well acquainted with her insufferable husband, and refused to be in his employ.

She was in the back garden when she glimpsed a tall figure striding toward the house, and came around the corner of the building just in time to see him step inside. She became aware that the person was known to her. _That haughty man who was Mr. Bingley’s friend, what was his name? Mr. Darcy! What is he doing here?_ Mrs. Hill knew that such a respectable gentleman certainly wasn’t up to any nonsense, but she again wondered why he was inside the house. Surely he knew the Bennets were gone?

She recalled an evening he had come to dinner with Mr. Bingley. The footmen had laughed whenever they came back into the kitchen after serving each course. Davy, the younger one, had hooted, “He could be eating straw for all the notice he’s paying to the food!” That had rankled Cook, for it had been one of her best efforts. Mr. Darcy had spent the entire evening staring at Miss Elizabeth. Hill had wondered if there would be not one but two announcements, but then the entire party at Netherfield had left without so much as a by-your-leave and not heard from again until the evening a few weeks before when Mr. Bingley had pulled up to the front door covered in mud.

Mrs. Hill decided to follow Mr. Darcy and see what he was up to. She knew every creaky board and squeaky hinge in the house and so, slipping off her shoes, was able to follow him in complete silence.

Mr. Darcy walked with slow, measured steps through the house, pausing in every room, remembering the few occasions he had been there before. He could see that the Bennets had removed some things, but most of the contents of the rooms were as he remembered them. The bonnets and shawls strewn around, the sheet music, and the sewing baskets were missing and the house had a cold, impersonal look to it. It no longer seemed like a home. He stepped into the library and stood looking at the battered desk and the deep leather chair where Mr. Bennet had spent the better part of his days.  He noticed gaps in the shelves, and so knew that Elizabeth had followed Mrs. Collins’ advice and taken some books with her.

Moving to the bottom of the stairs, he suddenly had the sense that he was not alone. He stood absolutely still and listened, but heard nothing but the sound of birds outside. After intently looking about him again, he began to climb.

After a moment, Mrs. Hill followed him up the stairs in stealthy silence, and quickly stepped into the big linen closet, leaving the door slightly ajar. She could observe him from there. Darcy walked the hall slowly, stepping into every room.

When he came to the room that Jane and Elizabeth had shared since they were little girls, he knew it was theirs from the faint scent of their mingled perfumes. Mrs. Bingley favored lilac scent and Elizabeth always smelled like roses and spring air. He breathed deeply, and sat down on one of the little beds.

 Mrs. Hill stood in the dark of the closet cater-corner across the hall, watching, her eyes wide. Mr. Darcy was sitting on Miss Elizabeth’s bed. He picked up her pillow and sniffed it. Then he buried his face in it, hugging it to his chest. He stood up with the pillow in his arms, looking as if he were about to cry. After a few moments, he put the pillow gently down, squared his shoulders, and walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house.

Mrs. Hill quickly ran to the front bedroom and looked out of the window. Mr. Darcy was walking slowly back down the lane in the direction of Netherfield. She shook her head in wonder. _Pride goeth before a fall,_ she thought to herself. _That poor man._

She ran back to the little bedroom, snatched up Elizabeth’s pillow, and then ran to the stables to retrieve the little brown cob she had ridden to the house earlier in the day. She had an errand to run, and trotted her horse off to Netherfield, taking the bridle path.

                                                                                                              ***

The Colonel, too, had been unable to rest for more than a half an hour. He got up and sought out his host.  He found Bingley still in his study, and knocked on the open door. “Ah, Colonel,” smiled Bingley, standing and gesturing him into the room. “Do come in. Where is Darcy?”

“I don’t know, but I hope he is asleep in his room,” said Richard. “He is a deeply unhappy man these days, Bingley, and hasn’t slept well in weeks, if not months.”

“I noticed the change in his appearance the minute I laid eyes on him. He looks positively ill!” said Bingley with concern. “Is everything well at Pemberley? How is Miss Darcy?”

“Georgie is fine, and all is well at Pemberley, although they had a harrowing winter in Derbyshire,” replied the Colonel. “No Bingley, Darcy has one problem, and it is affecting him very deeply. I don’t know how much my cousin would wish for me to share on his behalf, but I know he thinks of you as one of his closest friends, and it does concern you as well. Do you know last December when he told you that the reason he and your sisters removed from Netherfield was that they doubted the wisdom of your attachment to Miss Bennet?”

“How could I forget?” shuddered Bingley. ”It was one of the worst days of my life.”

“My cousin had convinced himself that the reason he wished to leave Hertfordshire was to prevent you from making a dreadful mistake. It wasn’t until after many weeks of misery and forced introspection that he understood that he was actually running away from his own growing attachment to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Bingley’s face lit up. “I knew it!” he cried.

“Darcy is not a man accustomed to self-doubt. He has always congratulated himself on his exemplary, well-ordered life,” continued the Colonel. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet has managed to shake my cousin’s life to its foundations without even being in his presence. I hope I have the honor of meeting the lady soon.”

Thinking back to that day, Bingley spoke thoughtfully. “To be truthful, if my sister Caroline’s had been the only opinion I heard on the subject of love, I would have been skeptical, to say the least. I believed at the time that Darcy never made mistakes. I was completely taken in by his judgment, and was utterly anguished. I have always trusted his opinion. I still do, but I am also very happy to find that my dear friend is a mere mortal. You know, Colonel, Darcy sent me an express, and I received it just as I was leaving for Longbourn. He told me of his changed opinion and encouraged me to go to Jane. The tone of the letter was so… _desolate_ , it made me wonder what had happened to him. Even his handwriting was uneven. At the point of reading his words, a picture of your cousin dancing with Miss Elizabeth at our ball popped into my mind. Jane and I have been speculating about it.”

“Darcy is now intent upon a courtship with Miss Bennet, if she will see him,” smiled the Colonel.

“He was obviously deeply disappointed to find that she is not here,” agreed Bingley.

***

Darcy returned to Netherfield as the glow of twilight was fading. When he let himself in the side door he was met by a footman who told him that the rest of the family was in the sitting room. His walk had calmed him somewhat, and he felt ready to be in company again. He entered the sitting room, and waiting for him were his cousin, and Mr. and Mrs. Bingley.  

Jane Bennet Bingley was a goddess in black bombazine. The effects of her bereavement remained on her countenance, but Darcy could also see the solace and joy she took in her husband’s presence. She greeted Mr. Darcy cordially and he walked over to her and bowed over her hand.

“Mrs. Bingley, I wish to express to you my profound sympathies on the loss of your father. “

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said, “On behalf of my family, I deeply appreciate your taking the trouble to visit us.”

“I only wish I had known sooner,” Darcy replied with more feeling than he had intended. “I came as soon as I could. I am especially grieved to have missed your wedding.”

“I’m sorry too, Mr. Darcy. But you are here now, and Charles and I are grateful, and most happy to see you.”

Mr. Darcy hardly knew what to say, so humbled was he. Here was a marriage that he had done his best to prevent, and they still welcomed him with open arms.

The Bingleys were keeping country hours while at Netherfield, so dinner was served shortly after. Mr. Bingley kept the conversation light, asking their guests about how they had fared over the winter in London and at Pemberley. Mrs. Bingley inquired after Charlotte and after Darcy’s family. After dinner, they removed back to the sitting room, rather than to the more formal drawing room.

The four of them sat together talking companionably for a while longer. At length, Mrs. Bingley rose and said goodnight to her guests, and left the room. Her husband took his leave a few minutes later. The two cousins sat silently in front of the fire for a few moments, but the strong emotions of the day had had an exhausting effect on Darcy as well, and he said goodnight to his cousin.

***

He took a candle and was making his way to his chamber, but stepped back when he saw his hosts in an embrace at the bottom of the stairs. Mrs. Bingley was leaning on her husband, and Darcy could see that her cheeks were wet. She had been so gracious that one could almost forget that she was still in a state of deep bereavement. Bingley murmured comforting words to his wife, and then kissing her, swept her up in his arms and carried her up the stairs.

Darcy stood still, looking after them, his hand unconsciously rising to rest on his heart.  He had an unfamiliar, empty, hollow feeling. He did not recognize it at first, but then understood that it was envy.

 He did not like feeling this way. He had never been envious of anyone in his life. He wasn’t supposed to envy Bingley, Bingley was supposed to envy him. Yet Darcy now saw a lot to envy in his old friend.

Bingley was an uncomplicated man who was not afraid of his own feelings. He was kind and amiable and generous. He had literally come riding to the rescue of the Bennet family, providing them with a home and no doubt much needed income. He had done it all for love and received love in return.

He had also quite taken the wind out of Darcy’s sails.

Darcy could now add envy to his collection of new and unhappy sensations: doubt, anxiety, jealousy, worry, loneliness, humility. _How does one even begin to live like this?_

Colonel Fitzwilliam had also left the parlor, moments behind his cousin. He too, had witnessed the tender moment between the Bingleys, as well as seeing the expression on Darcy’s face. He was glad his esteemed cousin had come down from Mount Olympus to consort with the rest of the human race, but he too envied his hosts.

***

Darcy walked the familiar corridors to his chamber, remembering that when he had previously stayed at Netherfield, he had spent several nights uncomfortably aware of Elizabeth sleeping only a few doors away. As he opened the door to his chamber, the faint scent of roses greeted him. He stood motionless for a moment, then set his candle on the bedside table and discovered its source. There on his bed lay the pillow that had been on Elizabeth’s bed at Longbourn. He stared at it in utter disbelief.

Talbot appeared with his nightshirt, and helped Darcy ready himself for the night, his carefully impassive face never once looking in the direction of the bed. The valet then left the room, without saying a word. Darcy climbed into bed, his hand reaching for the pillow, wondering if he had a guardian angel. He tossed the other pillows on the floor and wrapped his arms around it, nuzzling it, sighing with relief and pleasure. He fell into a deep sleep, and slept well through the night.

***

When Colonel Fitzwilliam walked into the breakfast room the next morning, he found Mr. and Mrs. Bingley sitting side by side at the table with their heads together, planning the day. When they both looked up and smiled at him simultaneously, he was struck by what a handsome couple they made. _They were made for each other._

After filling his plate, he sat down across from them. “Now, Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, what can I do for you today?” he asked with a smile. “Of course, Darcy and I would like to pay our respects to your family, Mrs. Bingley.”

“I think it might be appropriate to begin by paying our respects to Mr. Bennet by visiting the church,“ replied Bingley. “After our visit there, we can visit Mrs. Bennet and the girls at the dower house.”

“My mother would be honored if you and Mr. Darcy would consent to have luncheon with her and my sisters,” said Mrs. Bingley.

“I would very much enjoy meeting your family, Mrs. Bingley,” said the Colonel, ”and I am sure that Darcy is most anxious to renew his acquaintance.”

Within a few minutes, Darcy had joined them. He filled his plate and sat down with a greeting to his hosts. Richard and Bingley briefed him on the plans for the morning, and he readily agreed. Less than an hour later, the three gentlemen were riding into the old churchyard at Longbourn, black armbands decorating their coat sleeves.

Darcy studied the ancient structure. “This church must be many centuries old,” he marveled.

“The church is Anglo-Saxon, and the tower is Norman. The Longbourn estate and village themselves are almost as old,” said Bingley. “There have been Bennets on this land for over three hundred years. Mr. Gardiner showed Hurst and me some ancient family records kept at Longbourn. They list Bennets who were knights and went on the Crusades. The family can be traced back to the Conquest and beyond.”

Mr. Darcy turned and stared at his friend. “Mr. Gardiner? Do you mean… the man at the theater? He was here?”

“Oh, yes, I forgot you didn’t know! Mr. Gardiner is the brother of Mrs. Bennet. He and his wife were here for over a week after Mr. Bennet’s death. Through their business partnership, the Gardiners have become intimate friends with Louisa and Gilbert. It is through Hurst that I discovered that Jane’s father had died, and that is when I returned to Longbourn. Hurst did not realize that Gardiner was Jane’s uncle until they informed him that they were going to Hertfordshire to care for their relatives. That was when he discovered the connection.”

“Mr. Gardiner is the uncle in trade? The uncle in Cheapside? The Hursts are friends with them?” Darcy repeated helplessly. He knew that he was babbling, but he couldn’t stop himself.

The Colonel was listening carefully to the conversation. Even though he wasn’t acquainted with all the people being discussed, he was amused at his cousin’s reaction. He suspected that Bingley was also having a secret laugh at Darcy’s expense.

“Yes, they are a delightful couple,” enthused Bingley. “Louisa and Gilbert have been very fortunate with their investment in Mr. Gardiner’s company. It has been extremely lucrative, and they have made two dear friends as well. They socialize together quite often. Indeed, the Gardiners are acquainted with many fashionable people in town.“

The Colonel’s ears pricked up. “Really! Bingley, are you invested with Mr. Gardiner’s company as well?”

 “Yes, recently, and I’m already glad I did,” replied Bingley.

Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled. “I would like to know more about this, Bingley, later of course, at your convenience.”

Darcy was still struggling to piece together the events of the last few weeks at Longbourn, and feeling more behindhand by the minute, as they left the church and walked on the new spring grass to the mausoleum. They entered, and Darcy looked about him, impressed by the Bennet family genealogy. He rebuked himself for the erroneous conclusions he had drawn about the family, based on their small, poorly run estate and their coarse behavior.  He was silent and thoughtful as the three gentlemen rode back to Netherfield.


	11. "It's too late to do anything but wish him bon voyage"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we have made a start on the Elizabeth/Darcy relationship, there weren't many point-of-view changes in this chapter, although they will return. We won't abandon the Hursts, or even Miss Bingley!
> 
> This one took a few confusing bits of editing, so I hope it flows well, and that you enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you so very much for your comments and kudos! I appreciate it very, very much!

 

Once on the Netherfield estate, they did not return to the manor but took a smaller road to a pretty house with a cottage-like appearance, built out of the same pale golden limestone as the manor house. They dismounted by the front entrance, and Mrs. Bingley and Miss Catherine came out to greet them. Bingley’s eyes glowed as he took his wife’s hands and kissed them, while Kitty grinned and rolled her eyes. Bingley laughed at his new sister and introduced her to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Kitty curtsied gracefully and held out her hand to the Colonel and then to Darcy. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Darcy,” she said. “You honor us with your visit. Pray let me take you in to see our mother.”  

Mr. Darcy was by now beyond astonishment. He had described the raucous, out-of-control behavior of the two youngest Bennet sisters to his cousin and now here was Miss Catherine, the very model of decorum.  

The three gentlemen entered the house and were conducted to a pleasant sitting room, where Mrs. Bennet, Miss Mary, and Miss Lydia were sitting quietly together. Mrs. Bennet and Miss Lydia were sewing and Miss Mary was writing a letter.

All three seemed older and more mature, more like young ladies instead of girls. Their trauma had had its effect, but there was something more. Mr. Darcy took in the scene of domestic refinement: a mother and three pretty girls in full mourning, and compared it with his memories of only a few months before: a chaotic household full of noisy conversation about balls, officers, and getting rich husbands.

Kitty was lovely, her self-confidence growing as her manners became more assured. Mary, having become closer to her sisters, no longer felt the pressure to distinguish herself with affected manners and conspicuous accomplishments. As a result, her conversation and musical abilities had improved, and her plain face looked relaxed and almost attractive.

Lydia was still struggling to curb her unruly tongue. She was looking forward to a day when she could show her much-improved self to certain people in Meryton. Mr. Hurst had told her his motto was “Living well is the best revenge”, and Lydia had taken it as her own.

Though still fragile, Mrs. Bennet had found a tenuous calm since Jane and Bingley had married and brought a modicum of security to her life. She still in her own way deeply missed her husband, but her agitation had diminished since they had removed to the dower house. She rose to greet her son-in-law warmly, but Mr. Darcy was received with cool civility.

To Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Darcy was still the man who had insulted her daughter at the assembly, never mind that she herself had treated that same daughter with contempt and cruelty for months. Bingley introduced the Colonel, and Mrs. Bennet invited the gentlemen to sit down. Mr. Darcy expressed his condolences to Mrs. Bennet, and she communicated her gratitude. “Mrs. Hill and Cook will have a luncheon ready shortly gentlemen,” she said, “I’ll just go see how it is progressing.”

“Did your housekeeper and cook remain with you, Mrs. Bennet? That is indeed fortunate for you. I remember your dinners were delicious,” said Darcy. As she left the room, Mrs. Bennet thought perhaps she could find it in her heart to forgive Mr. Darcy after all.

Bingley recalled that he wanted Darcy to advise him about a faulty culvert near the house, and he and Mrs. Bingley walked him back to the road to have a look. Colonel Fitzwilliam looked kindly at the three young ladies in the room. “How do you like the dower house, ladies?” he asked kindly.

After a few minutes of discourse he understood that underneath their grief this was a group of unusually high-spirited young women. The girls were impressed with Mr. Darcy’s charming, easy-going cousin. The conversation flowed almost immediately. Before Darcy and the Bingleys returned, the Colonel heard hilarious accounts of his cousin’s obvious disapproval of Meryton, as well as his ill-timed remark about Elizabeth’s appearance at the assembly where they had all met.

Laughing, he said, “It has been an age since I have enjoyed a conversation so much! How on earth did your father deal with you lively young ladies?” The room went silent, the three girls looking at each other for a long, poignant moment.

“Most of the time, he didn’t,” Mary finally said quietly, “until his illness, when we all became closer to him.”  

After a brief pause, Colonel Fitzwilliam leaned forward toward them. “That makes me feel very sorry for him,” he said feelingly. The conversation began again and shortly recovered its animated flow.

Mr. Darcy warily eyed the expressions of amusement shared by his cousin and the three younger Bennet sisters when he entered the room. Within minutes, Mrs. Bennet reappeared, and all of them moved into the dining room. The food was delicious, and even though the luncheon was more subdued than past meals with the Bennet family, the atmosphere was comfortable.

***

After the gentlemen made their farewells, they rode back to Netherfield. After riding in silence for a few minutes, the Colonel spoke, “What lovely young ladies! From how you have described their past behavior, Darce, it seems that their father’s illness must have forced them to grow up very quickly.”  

“Yes, there has been quite a substantial change, with the daughters and even with their mother!” agreed Darcy wonderingly.

“It is my opinion that the younger girls will do well. I don’t know that I would have said that last November,” agreed Bingley. “Miss Lydia especially.”

“Ah, yes,” said the Colonel, “a lovely young lady. Although behind her pleasant manners, she has the look of an unbroken colt in her eye. But they are good-natured girls.”

“Jane and I have of course been speaking extensively with their aunts and uncles about their future. I’ll tell you more about our plans later when we are all home.”

***

The gentlemen arrived back at the manor house, and within a few minutes Jane pulled up to the stables in a little gig. Handing the reins to a groom, she joined them on their walk to the house.

As they settled themselves in the sitting room, the butler announced Colonel Forster. “Welcome Colonel!” said Bingley, as the gentlemen rose. “What a pleasant surprise! To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

“Bingley, it is always good to see you; Oh, and you too, Mr. Darcy! But I confess today that I have come to see Colonel Fitzwilliam.” said Colonel Forster with an apologetic smile. Richard saluted, then shook Forster’s hand. “What can I do for you, Forster?” he asked.

“Well, we had been dealing with a junior officer over the winter who had become something of a problem. At first he seemed quite the gentleman, and his charming manner won over his fellow officers and the townspeople. It started gradually with the usual; gambling, intoxication, dereliction of duty, but as the winter progressed, his behavior began to become criminal. He was in debt to the local merchants, swindled some young enlisted men, and even tried to abduct the innkeeper’s daughter. He was put in the brig till a court martial could be held. One of my junior officers recently informed me that he claimed some relationship to you, Fitzwilliam, and to you as well, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy and the Colonel exchanged glances, and Darcy’s face paled, his mouth forming a grim, angry line.

Richard said, “His name wouldn’t happen to be George Wickham, would it? Are we expected to bail him out of some trouble, Forster?”

“No, no, nothing like that. In fact, it’s too late to do anything for Wickham except wish him bon voyage. As of a week ago, he is on his way to Botany Bay.”

“What?” exclaimed the two gentlemen, stunned.

“Yes, the court martial stripped him of his commission and sentenced him to transportation,” said Colonel Forster. “He won’t be troubling anyone in Meryton, or England, again.”

“What a relief,” cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. “He has been a problem for Darcy for years. What say you, cuz?”

Darcy’s expression of astonishment faded to sadness. After a moment he spoke. “It would have grieved my father deeply to think that something like this could happen. I also feel sadness for my childhood playfellow. He grew from a happy, boisterous boy to a dissolute, conniving man. The person he became wanted only to use others for his own benefit.” He eyes focused on something miles away, but then he smiled slightly. Yes, Richard,” he said, raising his eyes to meet his cousin’s, “I believe it is a great relief!”

“When I became aware of the connection, I thought you might wish to be informed,” said Colonel Forster.

“How did you know we were here, Forster?” asked Colonel Fitzwilliam.

“I heard it from one of the shopkeepers, who had it from a farmer who saw you riding this morning. This is a very small community,” laughed Colonel Forster. “Visitors are always noticed around here. Sometimes one would wish everyone didn’t know one’s business, but when help is needed, you can bet the entire village will turn out.”

The Colonel then refused the offer of refreshments, excusing himself to go back to his headquarters. ”The regiment has orders to remove to Brighton for the summer months. We have already been delayed by the court martial and I don’t want the preparations to fall farther behind. Perhaps you could join the officers for dinner this evening, Colonel.” He bowed to the company and saluted Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Don’t go to any trouble, Bingley, I know my way out,” he said with a smile as he left the room.

After he let himself out, Mrs. Bingley spoke, “That is too bad! We were unaware of the court-martial! After Papa became ill, we were almost completely housebound, but we did hear that Mr. Wickham was wearing out his welcome in Meryton rather quickly. Indeed, Lizzy said she had tired of him before Christmas!”

At this, Darcy felt some of the tension he had been carrying around for months evaporate.

Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to his cousin. “Darce, I expect you wish to travel on to London as soon as possible. It seems rather late to leave today, so I believe I will take Forster up on his invitation.”

“Of course, Richard! It sounds like a very enjoyable evening,” he answered.

Darcy _was_ becoming increasingly anxious to get to London. He was relieved to have been welcomed by the Bingleys and the Bennets, but he had come to see Elizabeth. Her absence had been a profound disappointment, and the descriptions of her ordeal had greatly upset him.

“I regret that your visit has to be so short, Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed Mrs. Bingley. Her husband joined in. “The Colonel is right, Darcy! It is too late to be starting for London today. Pray stay with us at least until tomorrow!”

“Yes, please stay! You may be able to see Mr. and Mrs. Hurst,” said Jane. “They are on their way back to Netherfield from Bath. They took it upon themselves to help my mother find a school for my youngest sisters.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “I must own that I am surprised that Hurst would go to such great lengths to help anybody, much less someone not of his own family.”

Bingley chuckled. “Hurst is a changed man, Colonel. With Caroline staying with friends over the past few months, he and Louisa have become much happier together. One would think they were newlywed themselves. They are of course on intimate terms with the Gardiners, and now with our marriage, they think of the Bennets as family.”

“And they have been visiting schools for Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia?” repeated Darcy.

“Yes,” said Bingley. ”After the funeral, we all sat together and discussed the future of the family as a whole and individually. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner felt that school would be beneficial to the girls, even though they had already been, for all practical purposes, out. My mother-in-law,” he added, looking apologetically at Jane and reaching for her hand, “is unable to take responsibility for the girls herself. Both Kitty and Lydia have matured a great deal over the last few months, but we felt that they should have the opportunity to broaden their education and acquire a bit of polish, shall we say.”

“Louisa has some definite opinions about schools,” smiled Jane, “so she volunteered to visit a school in Bath and one in Reading. I suspect Gilbert needed some persuasion to go, but he seemed happy enough with Louisa’s plan. They have been gone for several days and we expect their return any time now.

“And Miss Mary?” asked Darcy. “I’m sure she would have liked a chance to attend school. Is it hard for her to see her younger sisters have that opportunity?”

 Jane sighed, “Yes, it doesn’t seem fair, does it? My aunt and uncle have asked her to stay with them in London, and she will be able to study with a music master, and other tutors. She is happily looking forward to it.”

His lips parted, he took a breath to ask about Elizabeth, but the words did not come. What of Elizabeth? What were her plans? Mrs. Collins had said she was planning to seek employment, but surely with Bingley as her brother she would not need to. As a member of Bingley’s household, she could live as a lady.

No sooner had that thought appeared than he realized that Elizabeth could never be content as Bingley’s dependent. He could picture her chin rising mulishly at the very idea. Not trusting his voice to remain level, he kept silent.

***

With Richard dining with Colonel Forster, there were only three for dinner at Netherfield. Darcy spoke little as Bingley and Jane carried the conversation. After dinner, they settled back into the sitting room. Finally, Bingley said gently, “You’re very quiet this evening, Darcy.”

“Yes,” answered their guest slowly. ”Actually, there is something I would like to speak with you about. Both of you,” he said, raising his head to look directly at Jane and then Charles.

Knowing perfectly well what he wished to discuss, Jane smiled at Darcy. “Yes, Mr. Darcy. How may we help you?”

“Mrs. Bingley, how is Eli…Miss Elizabeth? I… do you think she would welcome any visitors? I should like to renew our acquaintance and extend my condolences to her personally.”

Jane’s eyes met his, her brow slightly puckered. “Lizzy needs time to recover, to let others care for her for a change. She shouldered a heavy load of responsibilities during my father’s illness, Mr. Darcy. She is still insisting on finding work, but my aunt and uncle have persuaded her to put that off at least until the summer. My sister is very self-reliant and does not wish to be dependent on anyone.” She paused for a moment. ”I think it would be helpful for Lizzy to have some visitors. According to my aunt, she never leaves the house, and rarely leaves her room.”

“She doesn’t go outdoors? She doesn’t go walking? That is completely unlike her!” cried Mr. Darcy.

“Yes, it is, but she is not at all herself, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps if you visited her, she might consent to go walking with you,” suggested Jane.

“Yes, or I don’t think Elizabeth has seen the British Museum yet, has she, Jane?” suggested Bingley. “That might be a pleasant distraction for her, and a suitable pastime for a lady in mourning. You’re right about her walks though, Darcy.” He recalled finding Elizabeth shivering outside the day before the funeral. He related the incident to Darcy but then wished he hadn’t as his friend grew visibly distressed.

“I look forward to seeing her again,” Darcy said, with more feeling than he had intended. Embarrassed, he backpedaled. “That is, I have been very concerned about her. Since your father’s death, of course.  And through the winter. That is to say, the winter was difficult for everyone, but… he rambled, digging the hole deeper with every word.

He looked up to see Mrs. Bingley looking at him with compassion, and Bingley grinning with amusement. _Oh, blast, might as well come out with it._ “I wish to see Miss Elizabeth again, to take care of her. What I mean is, I wish to court her. If she is willing. Oh, dash it …” groaned Darcy, turning his face away. “You must think me a great fool.”

Bingley moved to sit next to his friend, putting an arm around his shoulders. “You are not a fool, Darcy, just a man in love. Believe me, I know the feeling well.”

A wave of embarrassment washed over him.

“You should never be embarrassed by your feelings,” continued Bingley, as if he could read Darcy’s mind. ”And don’t be afraid of them, either. Take the advice of a silly man, and follow your heart. And I have it on good authority that I am a _very_ silly man!”

At this, the serene Jane laughed uproariously, and her husband joined in.

Darcy didn’t have the slightest idea how to react to this. He was saved by the butler opening the door and announcing Mr. and Mrs. Hurst.

***

Darcy rose to greet them, trying not to stare. He had not seen them since that horrible evening at the theater in December. Here were two people he had been acquainted with for years, but entirely transformed. Hurst had an easy, relaxed smile on his face as he spoke genially with the Bingleys. Mrs. Hurst was also smiling and warm; vivacious and laughing.

“Darcy! Good to see you, old man! What a terrible winter you must have had! What brings you here? On your way to London, are you?” said Hurst, shaking Darcy’s hand.

“Colonel Fitzwilliam and I arrived yesterday. We were at Rosings for our annual visit to Lady Catherine. Her rector’s wife is from Meryton, and informed us of Mr. Bennet’s death. You may remember her, Hurst. She is the former Miss Charlotte Lucas. We came as soon as we could to express our condolences, and to offer our assistance. Of course, by the time we arrived, Bingley and the family had matters well in hand. With your valuable assistance, I understand.”

“I had heard that Miss Lucas had married Mr. Collins,” nodded Hurst, “Whatever could cause a sensible woman like her to marry that ridiculous man?”

“A good question, Hurst, for which I have no answer,” Darcy answered. “I am afraid that Mr. Collins does not improve upon acquaintance.”

At this point, Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the room, back from his dinner with the officers. His eyes widened when he saw the Hursts. They greeted him cordially and he reciprocated, a bemused expression on his face.

Mrs. Hurst came to her husband’s side and slipped her arm in his. She smiled up at Mr. Darcy. “How nice to see you again, Mr. Darcy! We wondered how you survived the winter up in the wilds of Derbyshire. How is Miss Darcy?” Darcy found himself smiling back. Apparently having Miss Bingley absent from their home had been extremely beneficial.

“My sister is very well, thank you, Mrs. Hurst. It was a harsh winter indeed. I am glad to say that we made it through, although it took a tremendous amount of work. Our tenants are well, and we were fortunate enough not to lose any livestock.”

“Bravo, Darcy! My brother informs me that Somerleigh came through as well, though the winter in Northhamptonshire was not as severe as Derbyshire,” said Hurst. “Louisa and I mean to spend the summer there this year.”

Louisa had moved to greet the Colonel. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, I understand that you are up from Kent. How were your travels?”

“We began our journey at Pemberley a few weeks ago, and travel was still somewhat difficult, but by the time we reached Hunsford, it was very easy going. Georgiana traveled with us this year, to spend some time with our cousin, Anne. She is, for the time being, remaining at Rosings. The journey was made more pleasant than if it had been just two old bachelors.”

Louisa laughed. “I’m sure you gentlemen do very well yourselves! But Colonel, if I may ask, has Mr. Darcy been ill? He appears rather haggard.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced over at his cousin, now conversing with Hurst and Mrs. Bingley. “He looked even worse when I arrived at Pemberley. He is on the mend, Mrs. Hurst. I believe I can say that he is hoping to make some changes in his life. Tomorrow we leave for London in the hopes of expediting those changes.”

Louisa took a long measuring look at Darcy and then gave the Colonel an arch smile. “I _see_. Are you perhaps planning to visit a certain house on Gracechurch Street? Well, if he needs any assistance in that, you will let me know, won’t you? Perhaps Mrs. Gardiner and I can smooth the way.” The Colonel’s jaw dropped, and then he grinned. “Nothing gets past you ladies, I’ll say that!”

***

On the morning of Mr. Darcy’s return to London, he rose before the sun and, not waiting for Talbot, quickly dressed. He had an important errand to attend to but had not shared it even with Richard for fear of seeming as if he was ready for Bedlam. Finding one of the stable boys up and about, he had him saddle a horse, and then cantered down the road towards the old church. Upon arriving there he dismounted and began walking toward the mausoleum, but then stopped suddenly when he realized that he was in the wrong place.

He again mounted his horse, and turned in the direction of Longbourn. The sun had now cleared the horizon, sunbeams beginning to move through the trees. He knew that the house would likely be locked this time but had to try anyway. He pulled up at the front door, dismounted and tied the reins around a post. Raising his hand to the knocker, he felt the door move. It was unlocked.

He once again stepped into the empty house, but didn’t wander. He went directly to the library. Entering the half-lit room, he took a seat opposite the old leather chair. Self-consciously, but with a deep desire to do things properly, he spoke aloud into the empty room. “Mr. Bennet, I wish to court your daughter Elizabeth. I wish to marry her, if she will have me, and I am most humbly asking your blessing.” The room echoed slightly with his voice and then all was silent.

Darcy suddenly felt like an idiot. What on earth had he been expecting? Embarrassed, he rose from the chair to leave. As he did, dappled light from the rising sun shone through the window and moved over the bookshelves. Something white at the back of an empty shelf caught the corner of his eye, and he went to pick it up. It was a crumpled handkerchief. He gently smoothed it out, seeing the embroidered initials E.B. It was Elizabeth’s! Darcy carefully tucked it into his inner coat pocket. His feelings of foolishness gone, he spoke again. “Thank you, Mr. Bennet! I swear to you I’ll make her happy!” He left the house and rode back to Netherfield.

***

After handing his horse off to the same stable boy, he made his way to the breakfast room, hoping to catch Bingley alone. It wasn’t his host in the room however, but Mrs. Bingley. He stood on the threshold, wavering, but then she saw him and greeted him. He had no choice but to come in. He put some food on his plate, even though he had no appetite, and sat down with his hostess. “You have excellent weather for your journey today, Mr. Darcy,” smiled Mrs. Bingley. “I’m sure the roads are much improved as well.”

After several minutes she continued, “Mr. Darcy, I wonder if I might ask a great favor. I have written a letter to my sister Elizabeth. Might I possibly send it to London with you?”  Like Mrs. Collins, she was giving him a pretext to call on Elizabeth.

“Of course, Mrs. Bingley, I would be happy to deliver it myself,” he answered. “Mrs. Collins also entrusted me with a letter to your sister.” He paused, and then decided he might as well dive in. “Mrs. Bingley, do you have any idea whether your sister will be willing to see me?”

“Mr. Darcy, my sister is suffering a deep melancholy. I believe it to be something more than grief that afflicts her, but I have not been able to understand the depths of her sorrow, and she does not share them with any of us. I do believe that if there is anyone who can help her, it is you.”

Darcy was stunned. A mixture of hope and fear rose in his chest. “You believe _I_ can help her? I would like nothing more, but Mrs. Bingley, I had the distinct impression last November that Miss Elizabeth found me, er…, disagreeable.” He regarded her uncertainly.

 “I believe that you and Lizzy got off on the wrong foot during your stay here last November. I have reason to believe that her opinion of you has improved.”

Jane was quiet for a several minutes, considering her words. ”Mr. Darcy, I am going to share something with you that I have not even told Charles.” She hesitated. “I have meditated much on the wisdom, not to mention the propriety, of sharing this with you. It is something very private, but it does concern you, in a way. Even though it may be a violation of Lizzy’s privacy, I have decided to tell you because I believe it may reassure you as you seek to become reacquainted with my sister. I also find that I have complete trust in you.” Darcy was riveted, staring at his hostess.

Jane looked into his eyes and said gently, “Mr. Darcy, Lizzy dreams about you.” Darcy returned her gaze, barely able to breathe.

Finally, he rasped, “She… dreams about _me_? How can you know this?”

Jane smiled ruefully at him. “She talks to you in her sleep. It began over the winter. Lizzy was under such strain and truly had no one she could go to for comfort. It is my belief that somehow she understood that you would be such a person, had you been there, and that she could go to you with her troubles. I believe it was a source of some comfort to her.”  She flashed an unJanelike grin at him. “She always sounded very happy to see you, at least.”

She paused again. “I must also caution you, Mr. Darcy. Lizzy does not know that I overheard some of her dream conversations with you. I don’t know how she would feel if she knew. For all her levity, she is a deeply private person, sir, a trait which I believe you both share. I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of your minds.”

“Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “We neither of us perform to strangers.” He looked earnestly at her. “I will keep your confidence, Mrs. Bingley,” he said. “I don’t know that I will ever be able to express my gratitude to you for trusting me with it.”

Jane met his gaze, her expression now serious. “It is I who must express gratitude to you. Mr. Darcy, if you can help Lizzy come out of her melancholia, my family and I will be forever in your debt.”

***

By midmorning the Bingleys and the Hursts had left for the dower house, eager to talk over their school visits with the Miss Bennets and their mother. Darcy and Richard followed in their carriage, to take their leave of the ladies on their way to London.

The two cousins sat in meditative silence in the carriage, each reflecting upon the events of the last few days. They expected to reach London by the middle of the afternoon. Darcy had made up his mind to stop at Darcy House only long enough to freshen up. Even if was ill-mannered to make an unannounced visit to Mr. Gardiner’s house late in the day, he simply could not wait any longer. The last time he had made the same journey he had been running away from Elizabeth, although he had not admitted it to himself at the time. Now he was running after her, and the carriage could not move fast enough.

He patted his coat pocket, feeling the letters he had promised to deliver; two to Elizabeth from Mrs. Bingley and Mrs. Collins and one for Mrs. Gardiner from Mrs. Hurst. He felt like a postman. The three ladies wished to send communications where they were needed, but it was obvious that each of them wanted to give him a pretext to call on Elizabeth.

He thought back to their stay at Netherfield the previous autumn. Had he really been that transparent? Had half the guests at the ball observed that he was falling head over ears for Elizabeth? It was all extremely mortifying, yet he felt warmed and humbled that Elizabeth’s family and friends wanted him to succeed.

His mind returned to the disturbing tale Bingley had related, of Elizabeth shivering in the cold. He frowned at the mental image of Bingley lifting her in his arms and putting her on his horse. He himself had only ever touched her hand, and through two layers of gloves!

“Why the frown, Darcy?” He looked up, startled, to see Richard watching him. He related the story to his cousin.

“But isn’t it fortunate that Bingley happened along?” Richard asked, his eyebrows raised. “She could have made herself very ill! Not to mention, she was wrapped in Bingley’s greatcoat!”

“Yes, yes, Richard, I know that! My reason fails me when it comes to Elizabeth!”

“Your entire acquaintance with Miss Bennet seems to have thrown you off balance, Darce, causing you to say and do things you normally would not. Even the first time you laid eyes on her, judging from the story her sisters tell,” said the Colonel. “I heard an excessively diverting account of your behavior at the Meryton assembly, where you found Miss Bennet ‘tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt’ you”.

Darcy gaped at his cousin in horror. “She _heard_ me say that?” he gasped. “That she did,” said Richard, “and apparently found it highly amusing. She must be _quite_ an exceptional girl.”

Darcy put his head in his hands. _Good God!_ Elizabeth must indeed have been under a terrible strain if she had dreamt of him with any kind of regard at all.

“Darce,” Richard said. Darcy looked up at him. “Show her your true self. The person you are with us, your family. Show her the loving brother, the caring friend, the sensitive man. That’s who you really are.” He flashed a grin. “Why else do you think we put up with you?"

***

 “When do you plan to make your come-out, Georgie?” asked Anne. The two ladies were lying lazily on a blanket on the lawn, having partaken of an impromptu picnic. When their cousins had set out for London, the young ladies had expected to be constantly in Lady Catherine’s company, but that lady had been away from Rosings almost every day.

Lady Catherine, having determined that the dean of the diocese did not have her best interests at heart, had decided to personally supervise the selection of candidates for the living at Hunsford. Mr. Collins had been a worthy rector because of his willingness, even desire, to put himself completely under her thumb. She had never had such a subservient parson and was now unwilling to have any man in the post who could not be bent to her will.

“Oh, I don’t know, Anne. I don’t even know if I want to have one. It all sounds so awkward and excruciating! Fitzwilliam hates the season. He finds it abhorrent, yet he seems to think that I must make a come-out in London when I am eighteen!” Georgiana sighed. “In any case, I would like to put if off as long as possible!”

Anne raised herself up on one elbow and stared. “Really, Georgiana? I am surprised! I always supposed it to be every girl’s dream!”

“Did you come out in society, Anne?” Georgiana asked.

“Oh no, I have never so much as attended an assembly! My mother always deemed it too dangerous to my health to be in a room full of strangers,” answered Anne.

“Oh, dearest Anne! When we go to London we must beg Aunt Matlock to give a party in your honor!” exclaimed Georgiana.

Her expression then grew pensive, and she sat up, pulling up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. “Making a grand come-out was the dream of all the girls I knew in school. I always dreaded it. The thought of conversing with strangers and dancing in a crowded ballroom terrified me.”

She heaved a sigh. “Then last summer, I went to Ramsgate for a holiday. Fitzwilliam was unable to travel with me, so I was accompanied only by my companion, Mrs. Younge. At Ramsgate I met a childhood friend, who convinced me that he was madly in love with me and wished only to marry me. He created such a fairy-tale vision of our future together that I believed myself equally in love with him. We decided to elope because it would be romantic. I was so happy! I thought I had found a true love match without even having to go through the agony of a season in London. Then Fitzwilliam decided to surprise me with a visit. He arrived the day before George and I were to leave for Gretna Green. I was surprised and thrilled to see him, and I shared my joy with him. I was so naïve, Anne! I thought he would be happy for me.”

“Instead, he was furious. I’ve never seen him so angry. Not that he made a show of temper. He just seemed to turn into ice right in front of my eyes. He wasn’t angry with _me_. He was angry at George Wickham, the man I was going to marry.” Georgiana smiled sadly at Anne. “Fitzwilliam explained to me that George was a fraud and a charlatan, and that he had been trying to extort money from him for years. I didn’t want to believe it, but when we got back to Pemberley, he showed me the records of his dealings with George. Then I knew that he had deliberately made a fool of me, to ruin me and get at my dowry. Mrs. Younge had been in league with him.”

“Oh, poor Georgie,” said Anne, horrified, sitting up and putting her arms around her cousin. “Oh, my poor girl! I am so sorry.”

Georgiana smiled ruefully at her. “All is well, Anne. Although I was utterly crushed and humiliated at the time. I thought I could never set foot outside of Pemberley again. And Fitzwilliam refused even to discuss it, as if he could make the whole sorry business disappear by never speaking of it. Not only did I feel like a stupid fool, I knew that he was deeply disappointed in me.”

She dashed away a tear. “That was the worst part. Within a few weeks I realized that I had not had any real feelings for Wickham. But I hurt Fitzwilliam dreadfully. After he has practically devoted his life to raising me.” She swallowed and gained control of her voice once more.

“Within a few weeks he hired a new companion for me, Mrs. Annesley, the widow of a clergyman. Mrs. Annesley had raised two daughters of her own, and she knew how to help me heal. She encouraged me to speak of it whenever I wished. She even said it was helpful for me to let myself cry. For months she helped me get my thoughts and feelings in order. I now feel that I am stronger than I have ever been. I am still shy, Anne, and have difficulty meeting strangers, but I know how better to mask my discomfort.”

“I still view coming out into society with abhorrence. I might as well write 30,000 pounds on my forehead, because that’s all that any man will be thinking of when we are introduced!” she declared.

Anne shook her head, laughing. “Georgie! Only consider, you and Fitzwilliam cannot be the only people in tonnish society who seek sincere and genuine company! I am sure there exists at least one gentleman who would love you for yourself!”

Georgiana smiled wryly. “I do hope you are right, Anne. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so skeptical until I’ve tried it.”

***

Darcy, having quickly bathed, shaved, and changed his clothes, was staring intently at his own reflection in the mirror. He practiced what he hoped was an engaging smile, then shuddered at the reflection. He looked like a cornered beast. _Show her your true self,_ Richard had said. _How could he do that? Would it be enough?_ He met his own doubtful gaze in the mirror.

“Shall I accompany you to Mr. Gardiner’s house, Darcy?” asked Richard, as his cousin came back into the saloon.

“While I would prefer to have your company, the propriety of even one person appearing on their doorstep unannounced so late in the day is questionable, to say the least,” answered Darcy, “So perhaps it would be best if I go alone.”

“I have to agree,” said the Colonel. “I will call on my parents for a few hours, and return here later this evening.” He rose and clapped Darcy on the back. “All will be well, Darce.”

Having already spent much of the day in a carriage, Mr. Darcy elected to ride to Gracechurch Street. He again checked his coat pocket for the letters he was delivering, a corner of his mouth turning up slightly. A postman, indeed.

Following the direction Hurst had given him, he found himself in front of a handsome townhouse, uncomfortably aware that only a few weeks ago, he would have never even considered coming into this part of town. He tied up his horse, and upon reaching the door, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Smile and be amiable, Darcy,” he said to himself, and reached for the knocker.

The butler answered and bade him enter. He invited him to wait in a small side room and went to find his master. Darcy shifted from foot to foot, and then paced nervously, unable even to sit down.

Within a few minutes, Mr. Gardiner hurried into the room. “Mr. Darcy! This is a happy surprise! Welcome to our home!” Darcy bowed, and shook Mr. Gardiner’s outstretched hand.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Gardiner. I apologize for any inconvenience my unanticipated visit may cause. I have just come from Netherfield today. I have some letters for Miss Bennet as well as one for you and your wife from Mrs. Hurst.”

“Ah,” said Mr. Gardiner sadly, “so you have been caught up on all the family news.”

“I have, sir, and may I offer my deepest condolences,” said Darcy.

Mr. Gardiner bowed. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. And your visit is not inconvenient in any way. We are honored. Come into the parlor, sir, and take some refreshment.”

Darcy followed Mr. Gardiner through the gracious and elegant home, a modern townhouse built on a smaller scale than those in Mayfair. The décor was a deft combination of sophistication and comfort. Mrs. Gardiner had excellent taste indeed. The two men entered the parlor where she was sitting. Mrs. Gardiner, though in black, was dressed in a modish yet understated manner.

She rose to meet their guest. “Mr. Darcy, how delightful to see you again! Welcome to our home!”

“Mrs. Gardiner, the pleasure is mine. I am deeply sorry to be calling upon you in your mourning, but I have a letter for you from Mrs. Hurst, and some letters for Miss Bennet as well.”

Mrs. Gardiner studied Mr. Darcy. His expression was polite, but she thought she detected some apprehensiveness. She had only met him once before, but surely he hadn’t seemed so nervous then. “Elizabeth is upstairs, Mr. Darcy. We will let her know that she has a visitor.” She rang for tea, and then sent a maid to fetch her niece.

A short time later Elizabeth walked into the parlor. When Mr. Darcy turned to greet her, she stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening in surprise. He stepped over to her and bowed over her hand, hoping she couldn’t hear his heart hammering away in his chest.

He was unnerved and shaken at her appearance. Bingley had not exaggerated the effects of her grief. He arranged his face into a smile, hoping that she had not seen his dismay. As he straightened, their eyes met for several seconds.

Gathering himself, he was the first to speak. “Miss Bennet,” he said gently, “I’ve just come from Netherfield. I have a letter for you from Mrs. Bingley, and one from Mrs. Collins as well. Most of all, I came to express my deepest sympathy to you. I was distressed and saddened to hear of your father’s death. Is there anything at all that I may do for you?”

Elizabeth was struggling to pull herself together. She had known she might see Mr. Darcy occasionally since he was Charles’ dear friend, but she had never expected him to seek her out. Indeed, once she had understood how wrong she had been about him, and by extension how rude her behavior towards him had been, she had expected him to actively avoid her. Yet here he was, looking at her with concern and offering what appeared to be heartfelt condolences.

She looked up at him and saw sympathy on his face, and perhaps some uneasiness. _Of course, he is out of his element here in Cheapside_.

But he had changed since their last encounter. He was thinner, and his face, while not precisely gaunt, had lines and hollows that she had never noticed before. They made him look a little sad. There were no traces of the haughty and severe countenance she had come to know the previous year.

“Thank you most kindly, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, making her way to a sofa and sitting down. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

Mr. Gardiner gestured Darcy to a seat next to Elizabeth and he quickly complied.

“How did you cope with our severe winter, Mr. Darcy?” he asked. “You live in the north, I understand? It was much worse there, I believe.”

“My estate is in Derbyshire, Mr. Gardiner. And yes, it was the worst winter in living memory. The cold was extreme, and we were utterly buried in snow. I felt as if I continually had a shovel in my hand for over two months. We all worked together and made it through. Everyone included; myself, our staff, tenants, even my younger sister worked to make sure every family was kept warm and well fed.”

“I am familiar with Pemberley, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “I spent part of my childhood in Lambton.”

Just then refreshments were brought in, and over tea and biscuits, Mrs. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy spoke of the neighborhood near Lambton, discovering several mutual acquaintances, while Elizabeth inwardly marveled at the idea of Mr. Darcy shoveling snow.

To his relief, Darcy felt himself relaxing in the company of Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle, his usual shyness subsiding slightly. While he was enjoying the conversation, he couldn’t keep his eyes from Elizabeth. She was subdued and slightly distracted. She spoke only when spoken to. He had noticed as she crossed the room that she moved stiffly, her shoulders tight and hunched, without the light and graceful step that had danced through his dreams. She was thinner and pale. There were dark circles under her eyes, which were mostly downcast.

But it was what was missing within her eyes that was most distressing. Mr. Darcy had spent the winter envisioning Elizabeth’s eyes: bright, sparkling, expressive, laughing, filled with spirit and intelligence.  They were still a beautiful deep brown, but the light, the spark, was gone. His worried gaze returned to her again and again.

Mr. Darcy reached into his pocket and drew out the letters, handing one to Mrs. Gardiner and two to Elizabeth. She eyed the letter from Charlotte with curiosity. “Where did you meet Mrs. Collins, sir? Was she visiting in Meryton?” she asked.

“My cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and I make an annual Easter visit to Hunsford to visit our aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and attend to estate business for her. I was pleasantly surprised to find Mrs. Collins there. I had not known that she and Mr. Collins were married. She brought me up to date on the news from Hertfordshire, Miss Bennet, including the sad news of your family. We concluded our business at Rosings as quickly as we could, and then traveled to Meryton to offer our condolences and assistance. Mr. and Mrs. Bingley made us welcome. I was of course happy to discover that they were married, but deeply regret missing their wedding.”

Elizabeth bit her lower lip to keep her jaw from dropping. Mr. Darcy had traveled to Meryton out of concern for her family? She could make no sense of the idea, then realized guiltily that he was still speaking. “Miss Bennet, how have you been spending your time in London?”

“Oh, I have been… helping my aunt with my young cousins,” replied Elizabeth vaguely, looking down at her hands.

“Unfortunately, my niece has been somewhat confined to the house,” said Mrs. Gardiner, who was carefully attending to their dialogue. “I am sure she misses walking out as she used to do.”

“Miss Bennet, could I persuade you to accompany me on a walk? I saw a pretty little park just a short distance from here today. The weather has been so fine it would be a pity not to see the spring flowers there,” suggested Mr. Darcy tentatively.

 Mrs. Gardiner smiled. She had been trying to persuade her niece to spend time outdoors ever since they had arrived from Meryton, and had only succeeded in getting her as far as their own garden. “What a lovely idea, Mr. Darcy!” she said. “I think some fresh air would be very beneficial, don’t you, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth was on the spot. She did not want to go to walking with Mr. Darcy. She knew he was just offering out of politeness. But to refuse out of hand would be rude, just another in the succession of discourtesies she had dealt him. She realized she had to accept, and oddly, just for an instant, felt a sense of relief.

“Yes, Mr. Darcy, I would like to accompany you,” said Elizabeth, pinning a semblance of a smile onto her face. Darcy’s heart beat a bit faster. If he could just help Elizabeth come back to herself again!

“Would tomorrow afternoon be acceptable, Miss Bennet?” he asked.

_Why not?_ _Then Mr. Darcy will have done the polite thing and he can be done with me. “_ Yes, sir, I will look forward to it.” After they had agreed on a time, Mrs. Gardiner invited Mr. Darcy to tea afterwards, and he accepted with a smile. He thanked the Gardiners and said his goodbyes, again bowing over Elizabeth’s hand.

***

Later that evening, after dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner sat together discussing the events of the day. Madeline handed Louisa’s letter to her husband. “Louisa and Gilbert visited both schools. She has given us detailed descriptions of each school, including the faculty. She has given us more than enough information to make a decision,” she told him. “Jane has slipped a note in with Louisa’s letter. She tells us that Mr. Darcy wishes to help Lizzy recover from her melancholia.”

Gardiner, with raised eyebrows, took the letter from Madeline and skimmed it briefly. “Well, perhaps he will succeed where we have failed. We’ve scarcely been able to interest her in leaving her room, and he has already persuaded her to go out walking. But Maddie, I was under the impression that they disliked one another.”

“Jane and Charles believe otherwise, my dear. They are convinced that Lizzy and Mr. Darcy were rather attracted to each other last November, but that they got off to a bad start. I also had a sense that he admired her from Lizzy’s letters last autumn,” said Madeline. She paused briefly and continued, “Edward, do you remember meeting Mr. Darcy at the theater last year? Doesn’t he look rather ill in comparison?”

Edward reflected for a moment. “I did think he looked thinner, and tired perhaps. They did have a terrible winter in the north, you know,” he said, stifling a yawn. “Let’s see what tomorrow brings. Then we’ll be able to further our acquaintance with Mr. Darcy.”


	12. "Have you ever seen anyone so lovesick?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again, another chapter. Thank you again for all your comments and questions! I appreciate your feedback!

 

 

That gentleman was sitting in his study at Darcy House, describing his visit to Gracechurch Street to his cousin. “She seems to be utterly… vanquished, Richard,” Darcy said anxiously. “I have always known Elizabeth to have… an inner fire … a spark. I could always see it in her eyes. But now it seems to have been completely extinguished.” He shook his head. “I will bring her back. I have no idea how to go about it, but I’ll figure it out along the way.” He again shook his head, and changed the subject. “How are your parents, Richard?”

“They are very well. I told them about our visit to Rosings, although I did not of course mention Miss Bennet. I did tell them that no one had ever informed Anne that she was the owner of Rosings. That is concerning to my father. There is no love lost between him and Aunt Catherine, you know. He does not trust her. If Anne dies before Aunt Catherine, and there is no will, Rosings will go to our aunt. We also discussed the state of Anne’s health. My mother has been trying to get Aunt Catherine to permit Anne to come to London to see a physician for years.” He paused. “I will be driving to Rosings again in a few days to fetch Georgie. My father has decided to accompany me, and to bring Anne back with us as well, for a visit.”

Darcy’s countenance eased, and he smiled. “Anne would love that. I wish you every success with your mission Richard.”

***

The following afternoon Mr. Darcy again rode to Gracechurch Street. The sun was shining brightly, though the breeze was still cool. He paused momentarily on the doorstep, took a few deep breaths, adjusted his neckcloth, squared his shoulders, and raised the knocker. He was again admitted by the footman. Mrs. Gardiner came downstairs to the entrance hall and greeted him warmly, informing him that Elizabeth would be down directly.

Seconds later, she appeared at the top of the stairs, completely in black, tying the ribbons of her bonnet under her chin. Darcy’s heart skipped a beat as he watched her descend, although she kept her eyes downcast and did not meet his gaze. As she reached the bottom step he stepped forward. “Miss Bennet,” he said softly, bowing slightly, and she finally raised her eyes to meet his. “Mr. Darcy,” she answered, with a curtsy.

“The park I spoke of is only about half a mile away. Shall we walk from here?” he asked gently.

He was speaking to her so kindly. Elizabeth could not keep herself from looking up at him again. He was looking down at her, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. He seemed to be the Mr. Darcy of her dreams, not the frowning, arrogant man she had known months ago. She nodded. “Yes, Mr. Darcy, let’s walk from here.”

They left the house through the front door, and for a few moments she stood dazed, blinking in the bright sunshine. He offered her his arm, which after a very brief hesitation, she took. They walked in silence for a while, Elizabeth finding herself at a loss for words.

With a deep breath to steady himself, Darcy rose to the occasion by telling her of his chance introduction to the Gardiners at the theater in December. “Do your aunt and uncle go to the theater often, Miss Bennet? They certainly are very knowledgeable about playwrights.”

“Yes, I believe they do, sir. I believe you could say that they are both of a literary bent; they enjoy plays, poetry, and read widely.”

”Indeed, Miss Bennet, I look forward to getting to know them better.”

They entered the park, and Elizabeth looked around her in wonder. She had been indoors for weeks, and had forgotten that it was springtime. Green grass and bright flowers carpeted the ground, and the trees were completely leafed out. Memories of the orchard in bloom at Longbourn seized her, and her heart twisted.

Mr. Darcy watched her eyes widen slightly as she took in the spring beauty before her, and felt some relief. It had been right to take her outdoors. Then, suddenly, the sadness returned to her face.

He swallowed. Time to take a chance. _None but the brave deserve the fair._ He took a deep breath. “Do you miss Longbourn, Miss Bennet? I would miss my home, if I were in your place,” he said gently.

“Yes, I do,” she said quietly, “All the more because it is no longer ours.”

“If it does not pain you to talk about it, Miss Bennet, I would like to learn more about your old home,” said Darcy, knowing she might not wish to speak of it to him. He had to remind himself that they were not as intimately acquainted as they were in his imaginary life.

Elizabeth was in danger of slipping into her dream persona as well. Even as she sternly told herself not to be too familiar with the tall, dark gentleman beside her, her voice disobeyed, and she found herself falteringly describing the orchard in bloom. He quietly and solicitously drew her out, as Elizabeth described her favorite places on and surrounding the Longbourn estate.

As they strolled by a hedge, they startled a flock of wrens into flight, which in turn startled them out of their discussion. Elizabeth looked at her watch and exclaimed at the time.

“Much as I would like to keep walking, we had better return to your uncle’s house, or we’ll be late for tea,” said Mr. Darcy. Indeed, he could have kept going for hours, but perhaps Elizabeth was tiring. They turned back to Gracechurch Street and entered the house, where a footman led them to the drawing room.

Mrs. Gardiner was waiting for them, having laid out tea with a generous assortment of sandwiches, biscuits, and cakes. Mr. Gardiner was also in attendance, having come home early from his offices. Elizabeth realized that she was hungry.

As they sat down, two maids entered the room with the four Gardiner children; aged ten to two, three sons and a daughter. John and Frederick were ten and seven respectively, Martha was four, and little Henry was two. The older boys made their bows shyly, trying not to stare at the sweets on the table. Martha was also bashful, and after her curtsey walked quickly over to her father and hid her face against his legs. Little Henry pulled away from the maid and made an unsteady beeline for the cakes until Elizabeth stepped forward and picked him up.

She sat down again in her place next to Mr. Darcy. Henry began to protest until Darcy pulled a fob from his waistcoat pocket and somberly held it out to the squirming child. Henry went still, his eyes moving back and forth between the fob and the silent stranger. He tentatively reached out for it and took it in his chubby hand, then happily played with it, the cakes temporarily forgotten.

“I see you know how to communicate with savages, Mr. Darcy,” quipped Mr. Gardiner.

Darcy smiled. “Perhaps we are all small children inside, Mr. Gardiner. If it weren’t for the rules of civility, maybe we would all be fighting over the cakes.”

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner laughed, and John and Frederick regarded Mr. Darcy with renewed interest. Elizabeth, with the now content Henry on her lap, stared at him in amazement. Mr. Darcy had made a joke! She averted her eyes just in time, as Darcy turned his head to regard her again, contentedly imagining her with their own child on her lap.

Tea and refreshments were served, with the children on their best behavior. After finishing her biscuit, little Martha, who had been solemnly staring at Mr. Darcy, squirmed off her father’s lap and went quietly over to him, reaching out and touching the tassle on one of his boots with a curious little finger. He smiled down at her and detached it, holding it out to her, and she shyly took it.

Then, as if he had passed inspection, she climbed up into his lap. The expression on Darcy’s face went from pure panic to embarrassment, and then to sheepish delight, as Henry quickly crawled from Elizabeth’s lap to join his sister.

Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, “Martha! Henry! You must get down! Mr. Darcy is our guest!” as she rose to take the children.

“I do not mind, Mrs. Gardiner! I rarely have the pleasure of visiting with children,” replied Darcy. “And no doubt they will become bored with me very quickly. Now if my cousin were here, he could keep them entertained for hours.”

After more conversation, Darcy again turned to Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, have you ever seen Hyde Park? The gardens there are particularly lovely. Can I interest you in walking there tomorrow?”

Elizabeth blinked, nonplussed. Even though Mr. Darcy had seemed to be enjoying himself all afternoon, she had been certain he was merely discharging a social obligation. She heard her uncle’s voice. “Lizzy, you really must see Hyde Park!” She looked up to see that everyone, even John and Frederick, were looking at her expectantly.

“You can feed the ducks, Cousin Lizzy!” squealed Martha.

“Why, yes… yes, thank you Mr. Darcy, that would be most enjoyable,” she managed to answer.

“Mama, may we go to Hyde Park with Mr. Darcy?” asked Martha.

Mrs. Gardiner opened her mouth to refuse, but Darcy looked at Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, shall we let these rascals accompany us?”

Elizabeth was now beyond astonishment. Who on earth was this gentleman who looked exactly like Mr. Darcy?

“I believe that we may be able to handle three out of four, sir,” she said, looking doubtfully at Henry, who was dozing off on Darcy’s lap.

Mr. Gardiner agreed. “He still needs a rather lengthy nap in the afternoon, so Henry will not be joining you.” He turned to his guest. “Are you sure you wish to take the children along, sir? You yourself said you are not often in the company of youngsters.”

 Darcy, though he had shocked himself with the impulsive invitation to the children, was warming to the idea. “Your children seem especially well-behaved, Mr. Gardiner. I have the impression that Miss Bennet deals very well with her cousins, and with children in general. In addition, I have every intention of calling out the cavalry for assistance on this excursion.”

Within an hour, all of the tea was gone and most of the cakes. Mr. Darcy rose to take his leave, shaking hands warmly with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Elizabeth stood in confusion, wondering what exactly had happened as she watched Mr. Darcy mount his horse and ride away.

***

Late that evening, the Gardiners again reviewed the day. “Can this truly be the haughty Mr. P of Lizzy’s letter?” asked Madeline of her husband. “His behavior goes far beyond civil to us, and he is showing himself to be very attentive and solicitous of Lizzy!"

“Perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities. Your great men often are,” mused Edward. “Maybe he will cry off on tomorrow’s excursion to Hyde Park. Although Charles, our Mr. A, holds him in great trust and esteem. We shall just have to wait and see.”

***

Hurst alighted from his carriage and turned to hand Louisa down. She looked up at the townhouse and sighed with relief. “It is so good to be home, Gilbert!” She turned and smiled at him, and he took her hand. The door opened and the butler appeared, welcoming them back with a bow. Louisa stepped into the hall and looked around her.

“Let us open the curtains and get some light in here,” she exclaimed. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, and soon drapes had been pulled aside, windows had been opened and the knocker put back on the door.

After changing out of her traveling clothes, Louisa found her husband in his study, sorting through his mail. “Anything for me?” she asked, sitting on the sofa.

“It seems to be mostly letters from Arthur that were delayed by the weather. I received his most recent one before we left for Hertfordshire, but these must have been sitting in a post office somewhere,” he replied, flipping through papers one by one. “There are a few bills, and here, my dear, a letter from Susan, and a note for you from Madeline.”

“Oh! I wonder what she has to say about our school visits!” said Louisa eagerly, opening the note. “She just sent it this morning!” Louisa ran her eyes down the page. “She and Edward agree with us about Madam de Castellane!” She smiled up at her husband. “I’m so glad that the girls and Mrs. Bennet agree as well, even though Bath is farther from Meryton than Reading.” Hurst set the letters down on the desk and sat next to his wife.

“That is a great kindness you’ve done, my darling, helping the Bennets with their plans. Kitty and Lydia are eager to start school, and I believe even their mother is caught up in their excitement!” smiled Hurst, his heart turning over at the glow of happiness in Louisa’s face.

“You helped me, Gilbert! I couldn’t have done it without you,” she beamed at him. She looked back at the note in her hands. “Oh! And Mr. Darcy has already called twice at the Gardiner’s home! The poor man. Have you ever seen anyone so lovesick?”

“Every time I look in the mirror, my dear.” He put his arm around his wife, who allowed one light kiss before scooting out of his reach.

“Gilbert! Let me finish!” she laughed. “Let’s invite them for an informal dinner tomorrow evening. We can catch up with Madeline and Edward, and see for ourselves how Mr. Darcy is progressing. We could invite the Colonel as well.”

“I would enjoy that, Louisa. And you can show off the drawing room.” He looked around the room. “My dear, have you any plans for other rooms in the house? I believe it is time you worked your magic again.”

Her eyes lit up. “I would love to have the hall repainted and repair the broken floor tiles, perhaps replace the curtains, and get the chandelier regilded. Can we afford it?”

“Yes, and maybe a little more besides, Louisa,” he replied. “Now that we are home again, we can make some more plans, and we can also decide when to go to Somerleigh.”

She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “I am so happy to be home with you, Gilbert.”

***

For the first morning since he had arrived at Abbotsford Park, Baron Riverton stayed in his rooms. The family seat had always been his heart’s home, and a surge of euphoric energy had buoyed him for weeks after his arrival. He had spent hours walking around the park and had even briefly ridden horseback one afternoon. But now he woke up exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept at all.

He sighed. Sophy would scold him for having overreached his limits. He rose and his valet helped him dress, but then he rested on a chaise in his sitting room, too tired to go downstairs just yet. He slipped into a doze.

Shortly after, Sophronia entered his rooms to check on him. She sat down on the ottoman next to the chaise and studied his face. He was paler than she would have liked.

“Rupert,” she said quietly. His eyes opened.

“Oh, good morning, Sophy,” he said, smiling, he hoped, in a casual way. “I was just on my way down, but I’ve decided to read for a while. I’ll have my breakfast up here. What are your plans today?”

She eyed him. “I have no firm plans yet. I take it you won’t be traipsing all over the park today?

He barked a laugh, which ended in a fit of coughing. “No, my dear, but I will come down later and spend time with our guests.” He smiled and patted her hand. “They are true friends, to keep company with you while I… decline. Even Miss Bingley is entertaining, not that that’s her intention. Do you know when she bent over to fawn at me yesterday, I could see straight to her navel.” He threw her a wicked look.

Ignoring his attempt at humor, Sophronia cried tearfully, “I don’t how you can be so calm about it…”

The old man sat up and leaned toward her, taking her hand. “You are the child of my heart, Sophy. When your aunt brought you to live with her, it was as if she and I were raising a child of our own together. I hate to leave you. But I am ready to go. Oftentimes I think I have lived too long already. Most of my generation is long gone. And I want to see my Gussie again.” He lay back against the cushions but kept her hand in his.

“You won’t be alone my dear! Your friends are like family to you, better than many families by blood. Broughton adores you. I wish Gussie had not been quite so cynical with you about marriage, Sophy. There is still real love in the world. You are loved, my child, and you will always have your aunt’s love with you. And mine. We are part of you.” He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and smiled at her. “Now, my child, why don’t you take your young man for a ride out to the folly? After playing suitor to Miss Bingley, he deserves some peace.”

***

Darcy’s largest coach rolled up to the Gardiner townhouse shortly after noon the next day. Instead of one, two gentlemen alighted and walked to the door. They were ushered in to find Elizabeth and her aunt buttoning coats, fastening caps, and reminding the children of their manners. Elizabeth looked curiously at the smiling man with Mr. Darcy, while the boys’ eyes lit up at the sight of his regimentals.

“Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet, may I present my cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam,” said Mr. Darcy.

“At your service, ladies,” the Colonel said, with a slight bow. ”And gentlemen,” he added, grinning at the boys.

The children were soon loaded into the carriage, and Darcy handed Elizabeth in, their eyes meeting briefly as she took his hand. They soon arrived at the immense park, and the children were wiggling with excitement, even John, who was struggling to maintain composure in front of the two very impressive gentlemen. After everyone disembarked from the carriage, Mr. Darcy reached under the seat and pulled out three bags of breadcrumbs for the children to feed the ducks. “Well done, Darcy!” exclaimed the Colonel as the children shouted their thanks.

The group made their way toward the Serpentine, passing flower beds and trees in bloom. The air was scented with blossoms. Elizabeth was watching the children, Darcy was watching Elizabeth, and the Colonel was watching Elizabeth and Darcy.

She was indeed lovely, but he could see the suffering on her face. Even though they had never met before, it was obvious to him that she was not faring as well as her sisters. Darcy had eyes only for her, but seemed to recall himself as they neared the water.

The children threw the breadcrumbs out onto the water with varying degrees of success; Martha having difficulty throwing them more than a few inches beyond her shoes. Nonetheless, the ducks swam in close to the banks, delighting their audience.

Colonel Fitzwilliam spied a flat stone and tossed it over the surface of the water, where it skipped three times and then sank. The children immediately forgot about the ducks and started searching out flat stones, importuning the Colonel to demonstrate for them again. The Colonel, laughing, told them, “If you want to learn, you must ask Mr. Darcy! My best is only five skips, his is seven!”

Darcy’s face froze for an instant, his natural reserve temporarily overwhelming any response. Elizabeth saw expressions of embarrassment, uncertainty, then aloofness, rapidly flit across his face before he donned his reserved mask once more. _So it is true, he is shy_.

She was moved to reassure him. “Mr. Darcy, if you will try it, so will I,” she said encouragingly. He smiled. “So be it, Miss Bennet.” They all searched for flat stones and soon each had a handful. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam bent over the children, showing them how to flick their wrists to get just the right angle. John managed two skips and Frederick shouted happily when his stone skipped once. Martha soon tired of throwing stones and fed the last of the breadcrumbs to the ducks. Elizabeth admitted to the gentlemen that she had practiced skipping stones as a child, and achieved a respectable four skips with one throw. Mr. Darcy won the day with six.

The sun was beginning to lower in the sky and it was time to leave. The party again boarded the carriage and were on their way back to Gracechurch Street. Martha fell asleep in Elizabeth’s lap, but the boys chatted happily with the Colonel, with a few remarks from Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth was abstracted, half listening to the conversation, her mind wondering at the side of Mr. Darcy that she had never seen before. Of course, he had once been a child, but she was having difficulty imagining him as a little boy. A picture of a small boy, dressed somberly as a gentleman, skipping stones with a fierce, gloomy expression popped into her mind, and a corner of her mouth turned up slightly. She looked up at him only to find his eyes were fixed on her. Her breath caught slightly, and she looked away. A few minutes later, they had reached their destination, and all disembarked from the carriage and into the house.

They were met by Mrs. Gardiner, who took the sleepy Martha from the Colonel’s arms and reminded the boys of their manners. John and Frederick thanked the gentlemen and ran upstairs. As the gentlemen made to leave, she mentioned that she had received a message from Mrs. Hurst that afternoon. “Mr. and Mrs. Hurst have returned from Hertfordshire today. They have invited my husband and I, as well as Lizzy, to join them for an informal dinner tomorrow evening. I believe you gentlemen will each find an invitation when you return home.”

Darcy was relieved. He had been trying to think of an excuse to call on Elizabeth the next day. Now he could see her at dinner with a small group of friends. Darcy and the Colonel made their goodbyes to Mrs. Gardiner, and then he turned to Elizabeth. “Thank you for a delightful afternoon, Miss Bennet. I should have known that you would be a talented stone skipper.  Will we be seeing you at Mrs. Hurst’s dinner tomorrow?”

Elizabeth looked at her aunt. “I believe we will be there. Thank you, Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she said, dipping a curtsy. “The children enjoyed themselves immensely.”

“She is a lovely girl, Darcy.” said Richard to his cousin on their way back. “She is not recovering as well as her sisters, I don’t believe. Although I did see her smile a little.”

Darcy sighed. “It was a ghost of a smile, Richard. Elizabeth’s typical smiles brighten the entire room. I shall do whatever it takes to see her smile that way again. Even if her smiles aren’t for me.”

***

Louisa had invited the Gardiners to arrive earlier than their two gentlemen guests.  Elizabeth listened to Louisa and her aunt describe their work in redecorating the drawing room, and she sincerely admired it. The two ladies took her through the house while Hurst and Gardiner settled themselves comfortably in the study. It was clear that the house had seen better days, but Elizabeth enjoyed Louisa’s happy enthusiasm about her future remodeling plans. She was genuinely pleased for the Hursts, musing that the house was a metaphor for their lives together as well.

A thought intruded that she herself was now homeless, and a wave of sadness assaulted her. She pushed the thought away and refocused her mind on listening to the discussion.

***

At that moment, Richard and Darcy were approaching the front door, Darcy with considerable trepidation. He had not set foot at the Hursts’ since the ghastly evening he and Caroline had deliberately broken Bingley’s heart. He shuddered and stopped briefly to compose himself.

“Something wrong, Darce?” asked his cousin. Darcy briefly explained, and Richard grimaced. “Now is your chance to replace that memory with a better one. Miss Bennet awaits you, along with friends who wish you well. Let’s go in, shall we?” Darcy lifted the knocker, and they were soon whisked inside.

Mr. Darcy needn’t have worried. Stepping into the drawing room, he was delighted to see the entire room was sparkling and new. The atmosphere was comfortable, and the company so convivial, that that wretched evening was soon forgotten. The conversation over dinner, and later back in the drawing room, flowed, though Elizabeth continued to be uncharacteristically silent. Darcy was by nature not a talkative man, but he was enjoying the intelligence, humor, and ease of the discussion. He directed a few quiet remarks to Elizabeth but mostly contented himself with watching her.

As he and the Colonel made their goodbyes that evening, Darcy quietly asked Mr. Gardiner’s permission to call upon his niece regularly with the aim of lifting her spirits, and it was quickly given.

Mr. Gardiner continued cautiously, “Ordinarily I would send a maid with Elizabeth at all times, Mr. Darcy. Since there is already an acquaintance between you and our niece, and because of your renown as a high stickler, I think we may forego that. My wife and I are hoping that she will find it easier to share her grief with you privately.” Darcy nodded somberly, aware of the irony that the stiff and cheerless reputation which had so repelled Elizabeth early in their acquaintance was serving him well now.

***

Between themselves, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner debated whether what they were witnessing were condolences or a courtship, but decided to allow events to unfold as they would.

“And so, Maddie, I impulsively gave my permission to Mr. Darcy to call on Lizzy, and to escort her when walking or making visits without a maid present. Do you think I have done wrong?” Edward looked slightly worried.

Madeline returned his gaze thoughtfully, her head tilted slightly to one side. After a moment she answered, “No, in this case, I don’t think you have. I think we can assume that they will always be out in public, walking or making visits. We also know him to be a sober, respectable man. He has already shown great gentleness and care with her. I believe that he truly understands her emotional state.” She smiled at her husband. “He cares for her enough to put off his own suit, if indeed that is what it is, until she is more herself. He is putting her needs ahead of his own wishes, which says a great deal about him. And somehow Lizzy already trusts him completely, even if she doesn’t quite understand that herself.”

***

The next day Richard and his father, Lord Matlock, left for Rosings. Over the next several days, Mr. Darcy called on Elizabeth almost daily. Elizabeth was mystified by his continuing presence, but she came to appreciate the distraction from the endless cycle of grief and guilt she was mired in. He took her walking most often, but there was a trip to the lending library and visits to galleries. Often Mr. Darcy would be invited to stay for tea by Mrs. Gardiner. The watchful eyes of her aunt and uncle noted a gradual lessening of the tension in her body, and an increased willingness to participate in conversation.

It was with rising hope that Mr. Darcy, too, observed these subtle changes. He took Elizabeth to the British Museum, hoping it would appeal to her natural curiosity and kindle a spark within her. They strolled slowly through the galleries, immersing themselves in the wealth of antiquities on display. They walked toward the Rosetta Stone, and studied it.

Elizabeth gazed at it in fascination. After several minutes she exclaimed, “Oh, I wish Papa could….,” and then stopped, her face crumpling. Darcy’s arm reflexively went up to encircle her shoulders, but he cought himself just in time. Instead, he put her hand on his arm and covered it with his, steering her to a bench in a quiet corner. Elizabeth sat down and he took a seat next to her.

“Miss Bennet, would you rather I take you home?”  She looked up, startled by the genuine concern on his face.

“No…no, I will be all right. It just struck me how very much my father would have enjoyed this. All of a sudden, I missed him dreadfully.” She shook her head, her eyes downcast. “I am sorry.”

“Miss Bennet, you must not apologize for your feelings. I understand completely.” He drew in a steadying breath, but the words tumbled out in a rush. “Miss Bennet, I know what it is to sit by a beloved parent’s bed, unable to do anything but watch them die. I know the heartache and helplessness and anxiety. Missing someone you love never really ends, even though it becomes easier to bear. Even now, there are times when it all comes back to me, and it is as if the grief is still fresh ...” He realized that he was gripping her hand too tightly. He loosened his hold but did not let go. Feeling awkward and self-conscious, he turned his face away from her and trailed off lamely, “I just wanted you to know that I understand.”

Elizabeth couldn’t take her eyes from his face. Stunned, she felt as if she was seeing him for the first time. Here was a man who had, at an impossibly young age, been left not only with sole responsibility for a great estate with all its dependents, but the raising of an orphaned child, all while in the depths of bereavement himself. He had sacrificed what should have been carefree years to do his duty and had succeeded admirably. What a remarkable man he was. Her regard for him, already having risen, now soared, and her heart swelled with sympathy and understanding.

Her hand was still on his arm, with his other hand covering hers. She laid her other hand atop his and tentatively squeezed, and he raised his head to look at her. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said quietly, her eyes meeting his. “Thank you for sharing your feelings with me. Your sympathy means a great deal, and I deeply appreciate your friendship.” Lost in his gaze for a few seconds, her eyes suddenly widened and she looked away, carefully removing her hand.

They walked through another gallery, and then left for Gracechurch Street. As he took his leave of her, he mentioned a return to the lending library, and she consented.

***

As the carriage took him back to Darcy House, he replayed her words in his mind. She considered him a friend.  They _were_ friends, he realized.  He had never expressed his own sorrow to anyone else before, not even Richard. That was certainly better than their relationship had been before, yet it was not enough. In his dreams she was his wife, his lover, the mother of his children. Would she ever be able to think of him as a suitor?

Or was it perhaps through friendship that he could win her trust and respect, even her love? He imagined their life together. To be ardent lovers and the dearest of friends, to be her closest confidant and she his, to be their truest selves with each other; that would be true intimacy. He leaned his head back against the squabs and closed his eyes. The mere thought took his breath away.

***

When he walked through the door, Georgiana and Richard were waiting to greet him. Georgiana threw herself into his arms. “Oh Fitzwilliam, I have missed you! You have been constantly in my thoughts! Richard told us all the news from Netherfield. How is Miss Bennet faring?” Darcy embraced his sister tightly. He had missed her, too.

“She is suffering, but I believe she is coming back to herself, Georgie. Slowly, but I think she is beginning to recover,” said Darcy. “So far, she has agreed to spend time with me almost every day, although she does study me rather curiously at times, when she thinks I don’t notice.”

“When will I be able to meet her? I was envious of Richard when I heard about your adventure in Hyde Park,” she grinned.

Richard laughed. ”No one was more surprised than I when I found that we were taking three young children to the park, and that it was your idea, Darce! I do think it did us all some good. I haven’t seen you skip stones since we were boys! And Miss Bennet has quite an arm herself!”

“Perhaps I can prevail upon her to teach me!” said Georgiana. “I was thinking more along the line of inviting her to tea first, however.”

“How about tomorrow, Georgie?” asked Darcy. “I had asked her to accompany me to Hookham’s library but I very much want you to meet her.”

“Perfect!” she exclaimed. She excitedly clasped her hands together. ”I can’t wait!” She hurried away to speak with the housekeeper.

Darcy turned to his cousin. “Where is Anne, Richard? Did Aunt Catherine prevent her from coming with you?”

“Aunt Catherine has become so consumed with finding an amenable rector to bend to her will, that she has temporarily lost interest in Anne,” answered Richard. “Anne was thrilled to come to town with us. She is resting at Matlock House. Traveling has completely done her in. My mother is busily making arrangements with her physician to attend Anne, and Georgie wants to bring her modiste to see her.”

He grinned at Darcy. “Anne is a very astute young lady, you know. While we were in Hertfordshire, she visited her mother’s solicitor, with Georgie’s help I might add, and made her own will. They planned it all very carefully. Her solicitor was as dismayed as we were to find that Aunt Catherine had not kept Anne better informed. My father and Houston both read through the will and then acted as witnesses when Anne signed it. Suffice to say that we all feel better about Anne’s security, and the future of Rosings.”

***

The next day, when Mr. Darcy was again welcomed to the Gardiner home, he asked Elizabeth if she would object to a change in plans. “Miss Bennet, my sister Georgiana has arrived in town, and most particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce her to your acquaintance?”

Elizabeth stared at him. Miss Darcy wished to make her acquaintance? She realized that Mr. Darcy was still waiting for her reply. “Thank you, sir,” she said, blinking, “It would be my great pleasure.”

 He handed her into his carriage and they made the journey across town. As she alighted, she raised her eyes to the stately beauty of Darcy House and drew in her breath. Glancing down nervously at her simple black walking dress, she sighed. Nothing could be done about it now. At least it was well-made and of the excellent fabric Louisa had brought them. She took Mr. Darcy’s proffered arm and they went into the house.

Georgiana was waiting to greet them in the music room, her native shyness battling with her excitement over finally meeting the lady she hoped to call sister. She knew Miss Bennet was still struggling to cope with grief. She was not even aware that Fitzwilliam was head over ears for her. She rose and walked quickly to greet her brother and the petite young lady with the chestnut curls who was on his arm.

Georgiana and Elizabeth curtsied and then rose to face each other. Georgiana smiled at Elizabeth, noting the lovely features and remarkably fine eyes with their now habitually sad expression. She took Elizabeth’s arm from her brother and led her to a settee beside a low table. “Oh, Miss Bennet! I am so happy to make your acquaintance at last! Pray be seated and make yourself comfortable.”

Elizabeth in turn studied her tall and handsome hostess. Miss Darcy’s face was kind and intelligent, with a lovely smile, and yet a touch of the Darcy reserve. She moved gracefully and naturally. The two young ladies sat side by side on the settee, and Darcy seated himself on a chair on the other side of the low table.

His heart swelled at the sight of the two most important people in his life sitting so closely side-by-side. His heart beat faster and his hands were clasped together tightly. He was unable to think of a thing to say that wouldn’t betray his feelings and so sat tongue-tied.

Georgiana’s rigorous training as a hostess came to the fore. She rang for tea and then reseated herself next to Elizabeth. She gently laid her hand on her arm and looked into her eyes. ”Miss Bennet, please accept my sincere sympathy on your father’s death. I am deeply sorry for what you and your family have been through.”

Elizabeth’s throat tightened and tears stung her eyes but she understood immediately that Miss Darcy’s condolences were sincere. “Thank you, Miss Darcy,” she answered quietly. “You are most kind.”

Georgiana smiled gently and gave Elizabeth’s hand a little pat as the tea tray was brought in. She poured Elizabeth a cup and handed it to her. “I am very sorry to have missed the outing with your little cousins in Hyde Park, Miss Bennet. Richard’s description of your afternoon there made me quite jealous in fact! Fitzwilliam and I are a small family and have no young children on either side of our relations. I hope I have the opportunity to meet your young cousins someday.”

Elizabeth smiled slightly, not surprised as she would have been several days before. If Mr. Darcy had no qualms about socializing with a businessman’s children, likely neither would his sister. “I daresay Martha would particularly enjoy meeting you, Miss Darcy.”

Darcy forced his muscles to relax. He accepted a cup of tea from his sister, and let their conversation flow over him.

Elizabeth admired the music room, and Georgiana acknowledged that it was her favorite room in the house. “My brother tells me that he has on several occasions greatly enjoyed your singing and playing, Miss Bennet. Does your aunt have an instrument for you to use?”

Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy, her expression quizzical. _Really?_ He colored slightly but smiled back at her, hoping he didn’t look as sheepish as he felt.

“Yes, Miss Darcy, she does. I must confess that I haven’t made good use of it,” she admitted.

“I hope I have a chance to hear you someday. I adore playing duets but rarely have the chance. Perhaps we can work on some music together,” smiled Georgiana.

“I would like that, Miss Darcy,” answered Elizabeth, her mind whirling at the amiability of her hostess, as well as that young lady’s seeming assumption that they would be spending time together in the future.

After the tea had been finished, Mr. Darcy excused himself, wishing to give the ladies some time together. He went to his study, thinking he might see to some correspondence, but was helpless to do anything but pace back and forth, with occasional long pauses to stare out the window. Finally, after an hour had passed, he found them still in the music room, seated together at the pianoforte with their heads together, looking over sheet music.

“Ladies, I regret that it is time to take Miss Bennet back to her uncle’s home,” he said, his smile warm and unaffected, his eyes crinkling in pleasure at the sight before him.

Elizabeth was mesmerized, her wide eyes riveted to his face. She had always recognized that he was a handsome man, even in their earliest acquaintance. But now, when he was smiling, his eyes aglow, he was breathtaking. Their eyes met and briefly held, and then Elizabeth hastily rose from the piano bench, a blush rising over her cheeks.

“Miss Darcy, thank you for your kind hospitality. I have enjoyed meeting you very much. I hope we will be able to further our acquaintance,” she said, a little breathlessly.

“I also wish it, Miss Bennet! In fact, I am counting on it!” Georgiana said with a wide smile that resembled her brother’s.

The ride back to Gracechurch Street was quiet. Mr. Darcy spoke occasionally in quiet tones, and Elizabeth answered him, but she was somewhat abstracted. He looked out the window but could feel her eyes on him.

In fact, Elizabeth had become acutely and physically aware of Darcy. She felt a bit dazed, but suddenly realized that she was being thoughtless. “Mr. Darcy, thank you for inviting me to make your sister’s acquaintance. I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed anything more.”

His heart rose. “I am delighted, Miss Bennet. I have long thought that you and Georgiana might enjoy one another’s company.”

The carriage stopped at the Gardiner townhouse. Darcy handed Elizabeth down but did not relinquish her hand as they walked to the door, tucking it again in his arm. He looked down at her. “Will I see you tomorrow, Miss Bennet? Shall we make our visit to Hookham’s after all?”

She was looking back up at him, her eyes searching his face. “Yes, sir, I would enjoy that very much.” Still holding her gaze, he bowed over her hand and waited on the step as she went inside.

Elizabeth stood inside the closed door, completely discomposed. What was Mr. Darcy up to? She felt a tingly shiver run up her spine and shook it off.

Darcy, sitting in the carriage, was elated but trying not to let his hopes get too high. Still, for the first time, Elizabeth seemed to have awakened to him, to be as aware of him as he was of her.

***

That evening, Elizabeth sat at her aunt’s pianoforte and played for the first time since Christmas. As she played, Mr. Gardiner whispered in his wife’s ear. “She is most definitely recovering, is she not Maddie?”

His wife observed their niece and answered in a low voice, ”Yes, I believe she is much improved. But I do not believe Elizabeth has spoken of her grief to anyone yet, Edward. She is still somewhat numb, I think. She has not yet allowed herself to unburden her spirit either with words or with tears. She won’t begin to truly recover until she can do that.”

Mr. Gardiner sighed. “Mr. Darcy has his work cut out for him then. Let’s hope he can succeed where we have not.”

 


	13. "My family is also rather, er, informal"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has run a few pages longer than the others. The scenes in it are more involved, and a lot happens. It's mostly dialogue, which is my favorite thing to write. Hope you all enjoy it!

It was with consternation the next morning that Elizabeth regarded herself in the mirror. _When had she become so pale and drawn? How lifeless her hair looked! How dull her eyes!_ She called her aunt’s maid to style her hair, and touched some scent behind her ears. She looked through her dresses: black, black, and more black. _I miss wearing colors,_ she thought wistfully, but then rebuked herself guiltily for not being more respectful of her father’s memory.

                                                                                         ***

When Darcy’s carriage arrived in Gracechurch Street it contained two extra passengers. Miss Darcy had accompanied her brother, as had his cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh.

 _Anne de Bourgh! Mr. Darcy’s intended bride!_   Elizabeth felt the bottom drop out of her stomach, but smiled with an effort as the introductions were made.

As Darcy settled her next to Anne, Georgiana looked at her apologetically. “I do most sincerely beg your pardon, Miss Bennet! Anne and I have rudely invited ourselves along on your visit to the lending library. I hope you don’t mind terribly!” Elizabeth smiled at Anne and shook her hand. She saw that Miss de Bourgh really did not look well, although her eyes were bright, curious, and friendly.

“This is my first outing since I have arrived in London two days ago, Miss Bennet.  The journey from Kent quite knocked me flat. I have never been to a lending library, and I am looking forward to it!”

Elizabeth surreptitiously studied Miss de Bourgh. She was tiny and fine-boned, pale and wan, except for her expressive eyes. Her conversation was lively, even ebullient. Elizabeth regretfully found herself warming to Miss de Bourgh. They chatted about Rosings and Hunsford, and their mutual friend Mrs. Collins. Elizabeth watched for any sign of particular regard between Mr. Darcy and Miss de Bourgh, but they seemed to converse more in the way of siblings.

They spent the next hour browsing the shelves of the lending library, together and separately, randomly meeting in twos or threes and consulting over what they had each read. Darcy stayed close to Elizabeth, sometimes walking and talking with her about their favorites, other times simply staying covertly within earshot of her.  Georgiana and Anne gleefully exchanged smirks and eyerolls. When all had made their selections, they stepped back out into the sunshine.

“Miss Bennet, can I persuade you to join us for tea at my aunt’s home?” asked Georgiana. “Anne is staying with our Aunt Matlock while she is visiting London. I think it would be best to take her there first so she can rest.”

Elizabeth looked at Miss de Bourgh.  Her face was even more pale and her lips had a bluish tinge. It did seem to be an effort for her to stay on her feet. “Of course, Miss Darcy, I would be honored. But what will your aunt think of an uninvited guest accompanying you to her home?”

“Aunt Matlock has already included you in her invitation, since Fitzwilliam told her of your planned visit to the lending library. I am glad you will have a chance to meet her.”

***

The carriage pulled up to a splendid townhouse, even more impressive than Darcy House, and they disembarked. Georgiana handed Anne’s books to a footman and said, “We’ll show ourselves up to the saloon, Gordon.”

She led them to an airy sunlit sitting room with the most elegant furnishings Elizabeth had ever seen. Even though it was only April, there were vases of flowers everywhere. Beautiful paintings hung on the pale damask-covered walls and exquisite, intricately woven rugs covered the polished floors.

A handsome silver-haired woman came forward to greet them. Lady Matlock was stylish and graceful, yet her kind expression and the tiny laugh lines by her eyes made her look motherly. She welcomed them and held out her hand to Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, I am so happy to make your acquaintance. My son tells me you can skip a stone with the best of them!” She turned to her niece. “Anne, oh my dear, you look hagged to death!”

“I’ll be better once I’ve had some tea, Aunt,” said Anne as she sank gratefully into a chair. They settled themselves and a few minutes later the tea tray was brought in. They chatted briefly about the books they had chosen at the library, followed by a silence as they all sipped their tea.

“Miss Bennet, Georgiana tells me you are staying with your aunt and uncle?” Lady Matlock asked.

“Yes, my lady, their name is Gardiner. They live on Gracechurch Street,” replied Elizabeth, waiting for the Countess’ reaction to having a denizen of Cheapside in her elegant saloon.

Lady Matlock’s eyes lit up. ”Oh, Miss Bennet, is your aunt Mrs. Edward Gardiner? We served on a hospital charity committee together! Pray send her my regards!”

“Thank you, your ladyship, I shall be happy to convey them,” said Elizabeth, taken aback. She let out her breath and allowed herself to relax a little.

Georgiana caught her brother’s eye and looked down her nose at him. Darcy bore her teasing well. Having become better acquainted with Elizabeth’s aunt and uncle, such information no longer surprised him, but the memory of his own arrogance still caused him considerable chagrin.

At that moment, Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the room, calling out his greetings to the assembled group. “Good day, cousins!” he said grinning, “and Miss Bennet! Did you each content yourselves with one or two books today or did you completely clear the shelves at Hookham’s, since there is nary a book to be found either here or at Darcy House?” He walked over to his mother and kissed her cheek.

 Lady Matlock chuckled. “Pray pardon our informality, Miss Bennet! When it is only family in attendance, we are very much at our ease! Richard is not quite the reader that Fitzwilliam and Georgiana are, and I daresay he thinks that two rather grand libraries in the family are more than enough.”

Elizabeth pursed her lips as she had used to do when she was teasing, and a dimple appeared. “Please don’t apologize, your ladyship! Mr. Darcy can attest that my family is also rather, er, informal.” She turned to Darcy, one corner of her mouth turned up and a teasing sparkle in her eye. Darcy’s heart leaped. He laughed and returned her smile. “Yes, Aunt, I can verify that Miss Bennet’s family is delightfully unaffected.”

Lady Matlock eyed her nephew and Miss Bennet. _I’ll strangle Richard for not telling me!_ Richard, Anne, and especially Georgiana were delighted. They had at last caught a glimpse of Miss Bennet as she really was.

The conversation began again and flowed easily. Later, as they prepared to take their leave, the three young ladies stood chatting while Darcy and Richard talked to the Countess.

“You can see why I love to visit my relatives in town, Miss Bennet,” said Anne. “We are not informal at Rosings. When we are gathered there my mother rather prefers to hold court, does she not, Georgie?”

“Oh, Anne, you’ve put me on the spot in front of Miss Bennet!” laughed Georgiana. “Yes, Miss Bennet, I am afraid that is true.”

“And then she makes my cousin Darcy sit next to me all the time so she can pretend we are courting! Poor Fitzwilliam! It’s a wonder he ever visits at all!”

Elizabeth looked cautiously at Anne. “My cousin Mr. Collins told my family that you and Mr. Darcy were betrothed when he visited us last December.”

“Oh, that ridiculous man! Pardon me, Miss Bennet, but he parrots whatever my mother says. We are most definitely not betrothed, and never care to be!”

A peculiar sense of lightness washed over Elizabeth, and she had to consciously focus her attention back on Miss de Bourgh, who was still talking.

As Richard and Darcy walked over to join them, Anne continued, “Miss Bennet, I cannot believe that you and Mr. Collins are cousins! There is nothing about you that is similar in any way!”

 “We are _distant_ cousins, Miss de Bourgh.” Elizabeth’s mouth turned up at one corner and again the dimple appeared.  “Very, very, very distant.”  Georgiana’s hand came up to cover her mouth and Darcy looked down to hide his smile, but Anne and Richard laughed heartily.

***

They said their goodbyes, and Georgiana and Darcy took Elizabeth home. Mrs. Gardiner invited them to step inside for a few minutes, and Georgiana met the children. As it was late in the day, they regretfully took their leave, but not before Darcy had invited Elizabeth to walk in Hyde Park yet again the next day.

As they rode home Darcy was exultant. “Did you see, Georgie, did you _see_ how she sparkles?”

Georgiana smiled at her brother. “Yes, I did Fitzwilliam. We all did. Even our Aunt. I’ve no doubt that even as we speak, she is wringing every drop of information about Miss Bennet out of Richard. You truly are helping her recover, Fitzwilliam.” She smiled into her brother’s eyes. “Love can heal all wounds, dearest.”

Darcy blushed faintly. ”I am counting on that. But I also credit your kindness, Richard’s affability and Anne’s tendency to blurt out just about anything that pops into her mind as being extremely helpful.”

***

“Mama, I can tell you that I have never seen a man more head over ears, nor less equipped to deal with it than Darcy!” said Richard to Lady Matlock. They were still sitting together in the saloon, the tea tray having been cleared away.

“It is certainly written all over his face,” his mother agreed. “Miss Bennet seems to be a delightful young lady. One wouldn’t need the mourning clothes to see that she is bereaved, however. Poor girl! Such lovely eyes, especially when she smiles! And you say she hasn’t a penny to her name? Remove your boots from the sofa, Richard.”

Richard chuckled, swinging his feet to the floor. “Well, perhaps more than a penny, but not much.” He looked at his mother. “Do you know, Mama, that Darcy was trying to suppress his feelings for her? He spent the winter in utter misery because of it. He felt that her lack of fortune, and her relatives in trade, made her much too far beneath his touch. There he was, madly in love, yet he had decided not only that he could not court her to preserve family honor, but that he would never marry at all!”

Lady Matlock harrumphed and shook her head. “That is how he was raised, poor boy. His parents were such high sticklers! It’s made his life that much more difficult. I hope he can learn to unwind a bit. Not that we would wish him to marry a washerwoman, of course. Miss Bennet’s father _was_ a gentleman, you say?”

“I believe even my Aunt and Uncle Darcy would have been satisfied with the Bennet family history, which is quite distinguished, even though the estate itself is small,” said Richard, “although of course her mother’s relations are in business.”

“No doubt Lady Anne would not have accepted Miss Bennet.” Lady Matlock sighed and then smiled at Richard. “However, she is not here to prevent her son from pursuing his heart’s desire, and I think it is high time for Fitzwilliam to find his own happiness. My acquaintance with Mrs. Gardiner gives me reason not to concern myself overmuch about what the ton may say,” said Lady Matlock. “They are respectable and cultivated people.”

***

Over dinner, Elizabeth described the afternoon to her aunt and uncle and relayed Lady Matlock’s regards.  After dinner, she played the pianoforte for a while and then excused herself to go to her room.

She was feeling curiously lighthearted, but mostly confused. Why was Mr. Darcy paying her so much attention? He was the last man in the world she would have expected to do so. He was also the last man in the world she would have expected to enjoy so very much. She had come to greatly anticipate their outings together. It was almost like… a _courtship_? _Surely not!_ Her rising heart sank once more. _Foolish girl!_ She knew what a degradation any alliance between them would be for him; what family obstacles would oppose such an inclination on his part. That had been true even before her papa had taken ill. Now she was just a penniless, homeless country girl.

She remembered his words in the museum. He was merely showing her great kindness and condescension. He had experienced devastating loss in his life and understood her pain. _We are friends,_ she thought wistfully. Still, Elizabeth was glad that Mr. Darcy had turned out to be the warm, kindhearted, gentle man he had been in her dreams.

But he would never consider her to be more than a friend, she was certain, her spirits slipping and her throat tightening. Someday he would marry a wealthy or titled lady and then they wouldn’t even be able to maintain their friendship. She would enjoy it while she could. Perhaps she could build a continuing friendship with Miss Darcy. She fell into a fitful sleep, with visions of how Mr. Darcy had smiled at her in the music room and laughed with her over tea.

***

The next morning Elizabeth awoke, but her interrupted sleep had not refreshed her. The dark numbness of the last several weeks had lifted, to be replaced by a slight despondency and a jangling unease. She had a sense of rawness, as if she was just barely holding herself together, yet could not pin down specific emotions. She spent the morning with her aunt, and after helping with the children’s luncheon, went up to her room to change out of her morning dress into walking clothes for her planned outing to Hyde Park with Mr. Darcy.

His carriage arrived punctually as usual, and her heart warmed. Mr. Darcy’s careful dependability endeared him to her, where she once would have considered it evidence of inflexibility. He was ushered in for a brief and friendly greeting to her aunt, and then handed her into the carriage for the trip to Hyde Park.

When they arrived, he walked her in a different direction, away from the Serpentine, towards banks of flowers and tree-lined paths. The sky was blue with small puffy clouds and a gentle breeze. It should have been calming to her, but it was not. The two conversed more comfortably than they had a few weeks earlier, but Elizabeth’s discomposure kept her relatively quiet, and Mr. Darcy also seemed to be silently reflective.

After an almost an hour, he asked Elizabeth if she would like to walk the short distance to Darcy House for some refreshment. She agreed, and they turned their steps toward his home. Georgiana sat with them and enjoyed a glass of cool lemonade, and then left for Lady Matlock’s house.

“My modiste is meeting me there today. My aunt and I think Anne needs some new gowns, and we are all very excited about it!” She smiled and took her leave.

With his sister gone, there was no chaperone in the house, so it was time for Mr. Darcy to escort Elizabeth home. He had been quietly studying her throughout their walk and he could see that she was perturbed. He wondered what he could do to lighten her mood, and hit upon an idea.

“Has my sister ever given you a tour, Miss Bennet?” he asked.

“I have seen the music room and the drawing room, sir,” she answered, “so not a complete tour.”

“Before I return you to your aunt, would you allow me to show you _my_ favorite room?”

He led her back through the entrance hall and down a short corridor that ended in a set of double doors, which he threw open and followed her through. She gasped at the sunlit room before her, a high-ceilinged room whose ranks of bookshelves were broken up at intervals with tall windows that went from floor to ceiling. A large fireplace graced the end of the room, and comfortable chairs were placed in small groupings. There was even a large globe on a table near a window, very much like the one at Longbourn.

“Oh, Mr. Darcy! What a magnificent library!” she breathed, turning in a slow circle to take in the entire room. Darcy was smiling, thrilled with her reaction. He was right to have shown it to her, to have given her the pleasure. He had imagined them together in this room many times.

“I understand you spent many happy hours in your father’s library,” he said as he stood behind her. As the words left his mouth, there was a silence.

Abruptly, remembered scenes of time spent with her father unspooled like lightning through her mind, shocking her to the core with their intensity. Darcy felt the air change. He saw her body slump and her shoulders begin to shake. “Miss Bennet,” he said with some alarm, and stepped around to face her.

The color had drained from Elizabeth’s face, and her eyes stared unseeing at the wall. Tears had filled her eyes and were already coursing down her cheeks. “Miss Bennet!” he said, bending over her, and put his hands on her arms just below her shoulders. “Miss Bennet, have I upset you?” She didn’t answer, but her hands came up to cover her face, as weeping silently, she began to sink to the floor.

With a muttered oath, he caught her up in his arms and carried her to a large sofa directly in front of the hearth. He knew he should set her down but was afraid to let go of her. He sat down and held her on his lap as she wept against his chest. “Miss Bennet… Please forgive me… I did not mean to cause you pain!”  His arms encircled her and he held her tightly. “Elizabeth, please talk to me,” he said into her ear.

And so, sobbing, her head on his chest, she did, the words spilling out of her. She told him about watching her father fade away, enduring her mother’s cruelty, trying to manage the estate under dangerous conditions, and the mixture of despair, anxiety, fury, and guilt she had carried locked in her heart all through the harrowing winter. She told him how her last evening with her father had been difficult, how he had refused even to the end to have a serious conversation with her. Shuddering, she told him of the guilt she felt over her anger at her father, even as he lay dying.

Darcy listened, murmuring soothingly, aghast at what she had endured. Gradually her sobs lessened and then died out completely. The storm had passed, and the release of her pent-up emotions had exhausted her. He could feel that his shirt and neckcloth were damp with her tears. He felt her body relax against him, and her breathing become even. She had fallen asleep in his arms.

He stroked her hair, wondering if Mr. Bennet had ever understood how much he had failed his family, and how rare and courageous and strong his daughter was.

Elizabeth dozed, feeling safe and content for the first time in months. She knew it was just another dream, but it was all so comforting. She sighed and snuggled against Mr. Darcy’s chest, and felt his arms tighten around her. She felt his cheek against her hair, and his kiss on her forehead. He’d never kissed her before. This was a good dream. His arms felt so strong and warm and he smelled of cologne and leather, and a little bit of horses and...  she had never noticed smells in her dreams before.

Except it wasn’t a dream. Her eyes flew open. “Oh, Lord! Oh, no!” She looked up into Mr. Darcy’s eyes, only inches from her own. She pushed herself away from his chest, trying to get to her feet but clumsily sliding off his lap to the floor. She struggled to her feet. “Oh… Oh, Mr. Darcy! Forgive me!… so mortified! What must you think of me! Oh! I must go!”

Darcy was on his feet. He caught her gently, his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to face him. She couldn’t look at him, and covered her face with her hands. She was beginning to cry again.

“Miss Bennet,” he said quietly, his deep, gentle voice cutting through her panic. He took her hands, and she raised her eyes to his. “Miss Bennet,” he said again, his tone a caress. “Remember when I said you must never apologize for your feelings?” She nodded, looking into his serious dark eyes. “I meant it,” he said. “We are friends, are we not? I am honored and deeply touched that you shared your feelings with me.” He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and set about drying her tears. Smiling down at her, he slid his hands down her arms to take hers.  “I think you were exceptionally brave, you know. Your father must have been very proud of you.”

She stared at him, confused, and then noticed his disheveled shirt and neckcloth. “Your shirt is wet. I am… I do apologize…,” she stammered, blushing furiously.  “It will dry,” he said calmly. _I’ll never take it off._

Darcy could see that Elizabeth had exhausted herself. It was late afternoon, and she needed to go home and rest. “Let me take you home, Miss Bennet,” he said gently. She nodded numbly, too humiliated and distraught to meet his eye.

They rode in silence, until Mr. Darcy leaned across the carriage to her and touched her arm. “Miss Bennet, can you recall what your father’s last words to you were?”

Elizabeth, pulled out of a brown study, had to think for several long minutes. “It was… take joy,” she said at last. “Take joy?” repeated Mr. Darcy.  “Yes,” said Elizabeth, her eyes fixed on a point far away. “He said… he wished me not to grieve, to be happy…, and to take joy… to _find_ joy in my life. He said he loved me.” She looked up at him again, into his serious dark eyes. “I had forgotten. I had forgotten he said that.”

“Those are not the words of a man who was hurt or upset by your feelings. I daresay he understood your trauma better than you thought. He wanted you to be happy,” said Mr. Darcy.

At that moment the carriage came to a stop. Darcy carefully handed her down, walked her to the door, bowed over her hand, and then stepped back. She opened the door, but as she made to step inside, she suddenly turned and ran the few steps toward him, embracing him tightly. “Thank you,” she said in a small voice, her face buried against his chest, clasping him fiercely, and then just as quickly turned and ran through the door, closing it behind her.

Darcy stood frozen, stunned. Elizabeth had embraced him. She had wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, but it had all happened too fast for him to react.

Elizabeth closed the door behind her, breathless, her mind whirling. _What have I done?_ She covered her face with her hands. Overwhelmed by emotions and sensations she was unable to even recognize, much less untangle, she bolted up the stairs in full retreat.

***

Madeline and Edward Gardiner had had their tea, and were beginning to wonder what could be delaying their niece’s return. Mr. Darcy was always so punctual. They were sitting in Edward’s study when they heard the sound of a carriage.

Madeline moved to the window. “It’s Mr. Darcy’s carriage, Edward. I wonder what could have delayed them?” Her husband joined her and they watched Darcy hand Elizabeth down, and walk her to the door. “Edward, look!” gasped Madeline as Elizabeth abruptly ran to embrace Mr. Darcy, and then disappeared inside.

They watched in fascination as expressions of astonishment, and then sheer joy, suffused Mr. Darcy’s countenance. After a few minutes, he remembered himself, gazed longingly at the door for a moment, and then climbed back into his carriage.

Madeline and Edward stared at each other. “Well!” said Madeline, at length. “Jane and Charles were right on the money when they said that Mr. Darcy has feelings for Lizzy! Gilbert and Louisa, too! Have you ever seen such a rapturous expression!”

“Lizzy seems to have feelings for him as well,” said Edward thoughtfully. “My dear, I believe there have been some new developments today. Do you think you can have a little tete-a-tete with our niece and ascertain her state of mind?”

***

Darcy sagged limply against the cushions trying to sort out the events of the day. He too was reeling under a staggering rush of emotions; awe, euphoria, exultation, humility, and love. She had opened her heart to him and entrusted him with feelings that she had been unable to share with her own family. He could still feel her on his lap, in his arms; how she had nestled against his chest. He could still smell her scent of roses and feel the glorious silkiness of her hair. His heart swelled, as did other parts of his anatomy.

 _Damnation!_ He hadn’t thought to ask when he could next call on her. Would it be too soon to ask her for a courtship? He tried to lay out a strategy but his mind was still whirling too much for him to think clearly.

He could not go a day without seeing her. Should he send an invitation to tea? Another walk? Would she need time to recover from the wrenching emotions of the day? What would she say if he asked to court her? When could he breach the subject? What were her feelings towards him?

Did she think of him as a friend? Of course, they were friends. They had spent the last fortnight and more together, almost every day. They had conversed at length on many subjects, although at first he had been the one doing most of the talking. He had seen her slowly relax and come back to herself. He had seen the sparkle in her eyes rekindle. And she had opened up her heart to him. A rueful smile flitted over his face. Perhaps not her _whole_ heart. But she _had_ embraced him. Very tightly.

Darcy remembered Richard’s words. Had he shown Elizabeth his true self? Yes, he thought so. The only truth he hadn’t shared with her was how much he loved her. How much he wished to protect and care for her. How much he _desired_ her. He closed his eyes. That would never do. At least not yet.

He would ask his sister about what to do. He smiled at the thought of Georgie as his sage counselor. The one thing he had done right last year was to hire Mrs. Annesley.

***

Elizabeth sat in her room, breathing deeply, struggling to pull herself together before she spoke with her aunt and uncle, to tell them that she had arrived home safely.

She didn’t _feel_ safe. She felt raw and exposed. She had revealed her darkest self to none other than Mr. Darcy. What on _earth_ had come over her?

She could still feel his arms tighten around her, his cheek resting on her head. He had _kissed_ her. On the forehead, but it was still a kiss. He had called her by her given name, and whispered it in her ear. She shivered. She felt raw and exposed but also somehow thrilled. Shocked at her own behavior and, oddly, lighthearted. And afraid. Her fingers itched to touch him again. Elizabeth shivered again, and a hot, tingly sensation swept through her body, pooling in her lower belly like warm honey. She closed her eyes, giving in to the wonder and agitation and pleasure of it. Was this desire, then?

She wasn’t afraid of Mr. Darcy. The time they had spent together over the last few weeks had taught her that she could trust him implicitly, and that he was a dear, gentle, caring man. A loving man. She had become as attached to the corporeal man as she had been to his dream persona. Maybe more. _I am afraid of my own feelings,_ _because I am in love with Mr. Darcy._ A man she could never have. _Stupid, pathetic girl._

Elizabeth then remembered that she had also been given a gift that day, from her father. How could she have forgotten his last words to her? Maybe because she had been in such despair, and so upset with him. Papa had given her a gift, but she had lost it, and Mr. Darcy had helped her find it again. “Take joy,” she remembered him saying. _I will, Papa._

There was a tap on her door. “Come in,” called Elizabeth. Aunt Gardiner peeked into the room. “Is everything well, Lizzy?” she asked, with such an overt mixture of concern and blatant curiosity on her face that Elizabeth laughed shakily. “Yes, Aunt,” she said, “all is well.”

“Oh, Lizzy,” gasped Madeline, with tears in her eyes, “You laughed!” They spent the next hour deep in conversation, and then the two ladies turned their attentions to putting the children to bed.

***

The atmosphere at dinner was lighter than it had been for weeks. “Will you see Mr. Darcy tomorrow, Lizzy?” asked her uncle.

Elizabeth was brought up short. “I don’t know, Uncle,” she said. “I think we both forgot to mention it.” Uncle Gardiner chuckled. “I’ll wager that there will be a note or an invitation delivered first thing in the morning!”

“Edward, what would you think of hosting a small gathering ourselves,” said Aunt Gardiner. “We certainly cannot formally entertain while we are still in our mourning, but perhaps something informal and intimate. A small dinner and some music perhaps? We could invite Mr. and Miss Darcy, and the Colonel, Miss de Bourgh, and Gilbert and Louisa.” She pondered for a moment. “I wonder if we are on familiar enough terms with Lord and Lady Matlock to invite them as well.”

The evening ended with Elizabeth playing the pianoforte and singing. Her aunt and uncle sat together on the sofa and exchanged relieved smiles. “I’ll write to Jane tomorrow,” she whispered to her husband, taking his hand. He squeezed her hand. “Madeline my dear, I daresay everyone at Netherfield will be relieved to hear that Lizzy is almost her old self again.”

Mrs. Gardiner did not have to wonder about the propriety of inviting the Earl and Countess of Derby for long. The next morning two invitations were delivered by messenger: one from Miss Darcy, inviting Elizabeth to practice duets together that afternoon, and the other from Lady Matlock, inviting them all to Derby House for dinner in three days’ time. Acceptances to both were sent immediately.

***

Louisa Hurst called at Gracechurch Street that morning as well. It had been several days since she and Madeline had had time for leisurely conversation and there was much catching up to do.

“The painters are working in the great hall today and there are buckets and ladders and sheets everywhere. The chandelier has been removed for repair, and workmen are fixing the broken tiles on the floor. I am glad you were at home this morning Madeline! I had the distinct feeling that I was in the way!” said Louisa.

“Are you replacing any furniture?” asked Madeline.

“No, but I am having some tables refinished and that old Persian carpet is being cleaned and repaired. I am still doing my utmost to be economical!” she said, rolling her eyes.

Madeline smirked. ”What? You didn’t have Gilbert clean the rug? He has such a talent for it!”

“So, Louisa, are you going to renovate every room in your house?” asked Elizabeth, who was enjoying a short visit until it was time to leave for Darcy House.

“Perhaps over time,” sighed Louisa. “We’ll do the public rooms first. Gilbert and I have agreed on that. The entrance hall now; I suppose the music room and the dining room next year, and perhaps one of the guest chambers. We’ll put off our private chambers for now, although there is one smaller room I’ve have been thinking of redecorating.”

Just then a footman entered with the news that the Gardiner carriage was waiting, and Elizabeth took her leave.

After her niece had made her goodbyes and quitted the room, Madeline leaned forward and took her friend’s hand, looking fully into her eyes. “Louisa,” she said gently, “would that smaller room happen to be the nursery?”

“Oh, Madeline! Yes! I mean, I hope so!” said Louisa, her eyes filling with happy tears. “That’s what I wish to speak with you about most of all! There is so much I don’t know!”

***

As the butler led Elizabeth through Darcy House, her eyes roved each corridor, trying to catch a glimpse of a tall, masculine form.  Georgiana was waiting for her in the music room, and Anne was there as well. Elizabeth was delighted to see them both, and the three ladies chatted over tea until Georgiana rose and carried over a stack of sheet music.

“Do you play an instrument, Miss de Bourgh?” Elizabeth asked. “No, my mother deemed it too taxing an activity for my health,” sighed Anne. “Georgie is giving me lessons while I am in town however, and I am enjoying it.”

Elizabeth gazed sympathetically at Anne. _I might even prefer my own mother to hers._

Georgiana and Elizabeth sifted through the music, finally agreeing upon three duets to try. “Miss Darcy, your proficiency is far greater than mine, so let us keep that in mind,” said Elizabeth when they were considering which parts to play. “It is my own fault because I will not take the trouble of practicing,” she continued, ruefully laughing. Georgiana and Anne exchanged glances and Anne winked at her cousin. They had finally heard Miss Bennet’s laugh, and it was as delightful as Fitzwilliam had said it would be.

After sight reading and briefly practicing the three pieces, Elizabeth and Georgiana made their choice. They had played through it a few more times when Mr. Darcy walked into the music room. Sensing his presence even before she raised her eyes, Elizabeth immediately played a series of wrong chords.

“Oh, Miss Darcy, I am sorry,” she said, blushing and flustered. “Don’t even think of it, Miss Bennet,” said Georgiana. “We have practiced long enough for today, I believe.”

“I am happy to hear that,” smiled Darcy, his eyes intent on Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, may I borrow you for a moment? I would like your opinion on something in the library.”

“Oh! Yes of course, Mr. Darcy. Miss Darcy, Miss de Bourgh, would you excuse me please?” asked Elizabeth, as she quickly rose to her feet, clearly rattled, scattering sheets of music to the floor and catching her foot on a corner of the carpet.

“Of course, Miss Bennet! Pray, take all the time you need,” smiled Georgiana. Georgiana and Anne managed to keep straight faces until the blushing couple left the room, whereupon they burst into laughter.

“If Fitzwilliam had clubbed Miss Bennet on the head and dragged her out by the hair, it might have been more subtle,” snorted Anne. She and Georgiana again fell into laughter and were soon wiping their eyes.

Elizabeth followed Darcy to the library. Her eyes again took in the beautiful room, but then she flushed deeply, remembering her visit the previous day. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and turned to him. He was standing inches away, looking at her, his eyes intent.

She swallowed and forced herself to meet his eyes. “Mr. Darcy,” she began, her voice unnaturally high and quavering, “Pray pardon my rudeness in speaking first, but I must say my piece. I can never thank you enough for lending me your ear yesterday. _Not to mention your lap, your arms, and your lips._ Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. “I wish… I have _long_ wished to apologize to you, sir, for my rudeness and impertinence to you when we first began our acquaintance last autumn in Meryton. Ever since then, I have looked back at my shabby behavior and been most heartily ashamed of it. Even before my father’s illness, I began to understand that I had been completely wrong about you. I had so sorely misjudged you. I, who had prided myself on my discernment…,” her voice trailed off unevenly.

She took a shaky breath and looked down at her tightly clasped hands. ”And then you rewarded my despicable behavior by treating me with the kindest attention I have ever known. I want you to know that I have come to think of you as the finest man of all my acquaintance.” She raised her eyes to his again. They were luminous with tears. “You saved me, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy had had a wakeful night. He had lain in the dark, searching his mind for just the right words to ask for a courtship. Now, he looked down into her shining eyes, unable to move or speak. All those fine words had evaporated from his mind. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Then he took her hands in his and held them against his chest. “Miss Bennet, I would… I wish to…” Finally, his head swimming, he blurted, “Miss Bennet, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

Oh, God, had he really said that? Was it even possible to be more awkward? He didn’t want to frighten her away. He swallowed, steeled himself, and in a calmer voice said, “Miss Bennet, I would be the happiest of men if you would allow me to pay my addresses to you.”

It was Elizabeth’s turn to stand as if paralyzed. She stared up at him, her lips slightly parted. Oh, God, had he really said that? His eyes were dark and intent, as they often were, with a glow in their depths. “Oh, yes. Yes, please,” she breathed, leaning into him.

He released her hands and gathered her into his arms. “Oh, Elizabeth,” he breathed, laying his cheek on her hair, “my heart.” He closed his eyes, savoring the scent of her hair, its silken touch on his skin, his awareness of their hearts beating so close together. He raised his head and looked down at her, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and raising her face to look at him. “My love,” he whispered, and gently brushed his lips against hers.

Elizabeth was struggling to cope with an onslaught of sensation. How could a mere embrace cause such a rush of feelings? She could feel her knees weakening. He was warm, and soft and hard at the same time. His arms felt so strong. She felt as if she was melting into him. When his lips touched hers, she lost all consciousness of anything else. Her eyes closed and her bones liquified. She clutched his lapels, trying to stay on her feet.

He again swept her up into his arms and carried her to the same spot where they had sat the day before. He kissed her again; deep and lingering. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers twined in his hair. She leaned into him and sighed. He kissed her again and then lifted his head and slightly loosened his hold on her.

”Oh, Elizabeth,” he said, “I have loved you and wished to court you almost since the day we met. But before you agree, my dearest, I must make a confession of my own. My honor depends upon it. Please hear me out, and then you can decide if you still wish to accept my suit.”

Elizabeth looked at him in confusion as he lifted one arm away from her and ran a hand over his face. She had seen Mr. Darcy look disdainful, irritated, condescending, haughty, as well as kind, warm, happy, and even fleetingly uncertain. She had never seen him look fearful, as he did now.

“What is it, Mr. Darcy?” asked Elizabeth, searching his face with concern.

“Elizabeth,” he began, and then paused as if searching for words. He closed his eyes for a moment, dragging in a deep breath, then opened them and looked at her. “Elizabeth,” he began again. “It is I who must apologize to you. Your impressions of my character and actions last autumn were not mistaken. I _was_ the arrogant, conceited man you believed me to be.”

He shook his head, as if trying to rid his mind of the idea. “I came to Netherfield at Bingley’s request. The few months previous had been extremely difficult.” As his gaze returned to her face, Elizabeth recalled Louisa’s words on Oakham Mount.  He was going to share his pain with her, and her heart swelled for him. Darcy continued. “A few months before we met, my sister had been visiting Ramsgate with her companion, when she was visited by George Wickham.”

Elizabeth looked up at him and saw that he was becoming distressed. She reached up and lightly touched his cheek. His eyes closed briefly and he turned into her hand, softly kissing her palm and tightening his hold on her before continuing.

“It is difficult to explain now, but Georgie was much more innocent then, almost a different person, not even a year ago. More of a child, really. Wickham wooed her and made her believe that he was in love with her, and wanted to marry her. She was swept up in a romantic dream of his devising. Of course, he was after her fortune, but she was very naïve, and believed him. If I hadn’t impulsively decided to visit her the day before they were to have eloped, he would have succeeded. I have never been so angry in my life. I had to disappoint my dear little sister, who thought she had found love. I was forced to describe to her my history with Wickham, and how he had tried repeatedly to extort money from me. I had to tell her that a man who truly loved her would have courted her openly. Wickham, meanwhile, having been forewarned of my presence, left her without a word. Georgie was deeply hurt, absolutely crushed. I sacked her companion, who had been in league with Wickham to gain control of Georgiana’s dowry. I took her home, found her a new companion after a careful search, and settled in back at Pemberley.”

“Several weeks later Bingley asked me to join him at Netherfield. I had promised I would come and help him assess any estate he became interested in purchasing. Instead of the brief visit I was hoping for, Bingley insisted that we become acquainted with the neighborhood.”

He looked at Elizabeth apologetically. “I have always found the curious stares of strangers to be excruciating. I know that I made a bad impression. I deserved your ill opinion. I was antisocial and disagreeable and supercilious to a ridiculous degree. I know that my company was only tolerated because I was Bingley’s friend. I was too ill-tempered to care. Until, shortly after I arrived, I began to be entranced by a lively, bewitching young lady, the like of whom I had never met before.”

He gently took her chin in his hand and kissed her. “Oh, Elizabeth, the morning you marched into Netherfield with your muddy skirts and your glowing face, I was lost, although I couldn’t admit it, even to myself, for quite some time. My feelings for you only deepened, but at the time I believed that I was impervious to you, and that I was above your company.”

Elizabeth made no move to pull away from him, so he continued. “As a child, I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. My parents, who, though good themselves, taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of those whose consequence did not compare to my own. The night of the ball, when we danced, I understood that my feelings for you were getting the better of me.”

“The following day, after Bingley left for business in London, Miss Bingley began urging Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and me to leave Netherfield; insisting that it was of vital importance to remove her brother from your sister’s company before he could declare his feelings to her. I am deeply ashamed to admit that I agreed with her, and we quit Netherfield the next morning. I had convinced myself that it was concern for Bingley that drove me to leave, but I did not admit to myself the real reason I fled. I _fled_ , Elizabeth. That is the only way to describe my cowardly, despicable actions. And I willingly assisted in breaking the hearts of two of the kindest, most loving people in the world.”

Elizabeth could hear her father’s voice as if he was sitting next to her. _I almost pity the man. When actually confronted with a woman worthy of him, he turned tail and ran._  Papa, that inveterate observer of human folly, had been right all along.

Mr. Darcy continued. “Of course, the truth will out, even with a man as blindly conceited as I was. I could not stop thinking of you all winter, Elizabeth. I could not sleep. I could barely eat. It was Richard, and Georgie who finally made me see what a fool I was. Georgie, whom I had always treated like a child, had not wallowed in self-pity after her experience in Ramsgate, but had grown and matured as a result of it, to the point where she had become much wiser than I.” He sighed. “That tale is another example of my propensity for misapprehension that I will describe to you another time. But it was by you, my dearest, that I was properly humbled.” He hugged her tightly to his chest. “ _You_ saved _me_ , Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth looked up at him. He was looking anxiously at her. “Now, my love, tell me what you think of me. I love you with my whole heart, and I would marry you today if I could. Can you bring yourself to join in courtship with such a fool as I am?”

She was silent for a several long moments, and Darcy’s heart slid down to his boots. He tensed, steeling himself for her wrath, or disappointment, or whatever she must be feeling towards him now.

Elizabeth was thinking of how her feelings toward Mr. Darcy had changed over the course of the winter and spring. She remembered being fiercely angry with him but couldn’t feel that way towards him now, even with his confession of being partially behind Bingley’s removal from Netherfield. She was only sorry that he still tortured himself with guilt, as she had done. He had told her the truth about his feelings and actions, even though it was unlikely that she ever would have found out if he hadn’t. She was glad to have discovered his real self, and happy he had discovered it as well.

She felt his body grow tense, and realized that he was waiting for her answer. She wrapped her arms around his neck again and leaned upward to kiss his chin. She felt him relax and his eyes met hers again.

She smiled ruefully up at him. “I must admit to you, sir, that I was furious with you after your party left Netherfield in November. My opinion of you began to change within a few weeks however, thanks in part to none other than Mr. Wickham, whom I finally recognized as a narcissist and a scoundrel. It pained me no end to realize that you had the right of me, Mr. Darcy!”

She felt his chuckle rumble in his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. “And then, when my father was so ill and I was trapped indoors and had no one to confide my deepest fears to, you began to visit me in my dreams.” She buried her face against his chest. “This is so mortifying!  We had many long conversations, oftentimes sitting as we are now, sir. I fear you must think me ridiculous, but I found my dreams of you to be extremely reassuring.” she said into his coat.

Darcy closed his eyes and laid his cheek on her hair. Would he ever tell her of his dreams of her, full as they were of raw passion and fervent lovemaking? Perhaps after they were married. For ten years.

Elizabeth raised her head, her cheeks pink. She gently laid her hand on his chest. “Let us not quarrel for the greater share of the blame. I have not changed my mind about your suit, Mr. Darcy. I have come to love you dearly. You have only reinforced my belief that you are the best of men.”

Darcy felt as if his heart might burst from his chest. He tipped his head down toward hers. “How long must our courtship be before we can marry?” he growled in her ear. She laughed, then pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow at him. He flushed and then laughed sheepishly. “That is, will you do me the great honor, ma’am, of accepting my hand in marriage?”

She held his gaze, her eyes softening. “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I will marry you. There is nothing that would give me greater joy.” She reached up to cup his cheek, and guided his lips down to hers once more.

Darcy wrapped himself around her, holding her as tightly as he could. _Thank God, thank God_. He knew that, as long as he lived, he would never be happier than he was at that moment. He deepened the kiss, one hand moving from her back to grasp the curve of her waist. A voice in his head was shouting _Stop!_ , but then he felt her hands on his neck, in his hair. _Lizzy._ She was holding him as tightly as he held her. They shifted on the sofa, his body leaning into hers until they were almost reclining in their embrace, straining against each other.

His hand was moving up from her waist when Darcy, reeling, began to drag the shreds of his self-control together. She was naturally passionate, as he had hoped she would be, but she was still an innocent. He loved her too much to maul her on a sofa. He began to gently pull away from her, watching her face as she opened her eyes, bereft of his touch at first, and then averting her face from his as she came back to herself, mortified at her own passion.

“Don’t be embarrassed, my darling,” he whispered in her ear. “Your reaction to my touch is everything I have ever dreamed of. But I want our wedding night to be perfect for you. For us. We will have to wait for this a little longer, my love.”

“Yes… yes, of course,” Elizabeth said, her voice wobbly, forcing herself to meet his eye, as he pulled them both again to a sitting position. She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Miss Darcy and Miss de Bourgh will be wondering where we are.”

They rose to their feet unsteadily, clutching each other, embarrassed, self-consciously laughing at their own shakiness, when she looked up at his hair. His naturally unruly curls were practically standing on end. “Oh! Mr. Darcy! Your hair!” She reached up and attempted to smooth it with her fingers, as he gently tucked a loose chestnut curl behind her ear.

She tilted her head back to look into his eyes, one corner of her mouth turned up. “Am I to call you Mr. Darcy, even when we are married?”

He stared down at her for a moment, and then threw his head back and laughed. “You may call me anything you wish! Especially since I have been making free with your name without even begging your permission. I have been calling you Elizabeth or Lizzy in my mind for months.”

“What would you like me to call you?” she asked. “Fitzwilliam? How do you avoid confusion with the Colonel and his brother?” 

Darcy considered this. He knew many women in the upper ranks called their husbands by their surnames or their titles. He wanted to hear something more intimate from Elizabeth’s lips. Something that was hers and his alone. “William. Call me William,” he said, looking down at her, his voice low and intense. “William,” she said softly, trying it out. “Yes, William.”

They hurriedly smoothed the creases in their clothes, and Elizabeth reached up to adjust his cravat. Her hands resting on his chest, she met his eyes. “Just one more,” she whispered, and he bent his head to hers for a slow, gentle kiss. As their lips parted, he looked longingly at the sofa and then smiled at her. “I do like holding you on my lap, Elizabeth. I think when we are married we should have all our conversations that way.”

She laughed, joining in the game, delighted that he was teasing her. “Perhaps not _all_ our conversations, sir! We would look very silly walking through Hyde Park with you carrying me in your arms.”

“You are correct, as usual, Elizabeth. I shall just have to throw you over my shoulder when we go walking in the park.”

She stared at him incredulously. He was looking particularly pleased with himself. “Is this really _my_ Mr. Darcy? I am all amazement that you can tease and laugh so much!”

He smiled down at her. “I am completely _your_ Mr. Darcy. That is what you have done for me, my dearest.”

He sighed and pulled her into his arms once more. “Now we will leave this room and tell our families that we are betrothed. We will always have a chaperone with us now until the wedding, my love. We will likely not have a moment to ourselves. We, and especially you, will be fussed over and never left alone while everyone is making plans for our wedding. So, what say you, Elizabeth? Have you always dreamed of a large, formal wedding? If that is your wish, you shall have it, but we will have to wait until your mourning is over.”

Elizabeth was quiet for several long moments. “I have never wished for a large wedding. My mother is the one who always dreamed of elaborate weddings for her daughters. I would prefer us to be married as soon as possible, with a minimum of fuss. What do you prefer, William?”

“I also wish to marry as quickly as possible. A special license then, and a small wedding as soon as your family can arrive from Hertfordshire?” Darcy asked.

“That would be perfect,” she agreed. He lowered his head to hers for another kiss, and then opened the door to return to the music room.

Elizabeth cast a wistful look over her shoulder. “What a wonderful library you have, William. Perhaps one day I might even come in here to choose a book.”

***

The truants returned to the music room to find Anne and Georgiana still there, having been joined by Colonel Fitzwilliam. Their announcement was met with unbounded joy, but no surprise. Toasts were drunk with lemonade, and the three young ladies embraced and laughed.

Richard threw his arm around Darcy’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “You are a lucky man, Darcy. Miss Bennet is just who you need in your life. I knew it as soon as you first described her to me.” 

Darcy sighed. “I owe it all to you, Richard. You and Georgie, and Anne also. But I might never have come to my senses if it hadn’t been for you, cousin. My hope is that you will soon find a woman who gives you as much happiness as I feel today.”

Richard grimaced. “That won’t be easy. Especially since I anticipate following the drum for the foreseeable future.”

“You never know, Richard. I certainly did not expect to find my bride in a backwater village in Hertfordshire. It will probably happen when and where you least expect it.”

Richard studied his cousin’s face, infused with a joy that he could not remember having ever seen before. “I hope you’re right, Darcy.”

A short while later Darcy called for his carriage to escort Elizabeth home. Elizabeth said her goodbyes to the three cousins and the happy couple left for Gracechurch Street. The music room fell silent for a few moments as Georgiana, Richard, and Anne sipped the remains of their lemonade.

Anne peered at her cousins over the rim of her glass, and then set it down with a thud. “Did you see his _hair_?” she whooped.

 


	14. "Well done, Mr. Hurst"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've worked through edits to the final two chapters and an epilogue, and will try to post them all today.
> 
> As always, I very, very, much appreciate your comments and kudos. Since I've done my own editing, it helps to hear questions and commentary. I deeply appreciate being a part of this community!

Darcy’s carriage pulled up to the Gardiners’ townhouse just as Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Hurst were also arriving. The four walked in together, Darcy doing his best to inconspicuously catch Mr. Gardiner’s eye while Mr. Hurst pretended not to notice.

“My wife has spent the afternoon here with your aunt, Miss Bennet,” Hurst said kindly. “Shall we find out how extensive their remodeling plans have become? I do hope they haven’t chosen any bilious colors.” He offered his arm to Elizabeth and she took it, casting a quick look behind her at her uncomfortable betrothed. Darcy glanced gratefully at Hurst’s retreating form and then turned to Mr. Gardiner, who was looking up at him with an expectant gleam in his eye.

Darcy swallowed. “Sir, I wonder if I might trouble you for a moment. I wish to speak privately with you if I may.”

Gardiner led him up a short flight of stairs to his study, where he invited his guest to take a seat.  “May I offer you a glass of wine, Mr. Darcy?” Gardiner turned to busy himself with the decanter and glasses, trying to control the smile that was spreading across his face as the younger man fidgeted in the chair behind him.

Darcy took the proffered wine, sipped it and then looked into Gardiner’s sympathetic face. “Sir,” he began, “You have entrusted your niece into my care for several weeks now. I can never thank you enough for giving me your trust.” He hesitated. “Mr. Gardiner, I told you when I asked you permission to spend time with your niece that I wished to help her recover her spirits. I must now admit to you that I also had a more selfish motive. Miss Bennet and I have come to an understanding, and I now come to beg your permission and blessing upon our betrothal.”

Gardiner pulled a long and serious face, though there was humor in his eyes. “So you have skipped the courtship completely, Mr. Darcy!” he said. “That seems to be the mode these days. That is exactly what your future brother Mr. Bingley did!”

Darcy stiffened and frowned before it dawned on him that Mr. Gardiner was roasting him. “My future brother…” he repeated, looking at the older man.

“Yes, son,” said Gardiner gently. “You have my permission, and my heartfelt blessing. Madeline and I have been witness to the tender care you have taken of our niece. We have seen you put her needs first. We have come to have deep respect and regard for you. I think I can say with certainty that my sister will happily give her blessing…” at that he rolled his eyes, “and that my brother Bennet would have just as happily given his.”

Darcy sighed with relief. It was really going to happen. Elizabeth was going to be his. Even better, he was going to be hers. The two men sat together and sipped their wine for a few moments.

At length, Darcy cleared his throat. Despite the sheer bliss he was basking in, his sense of duty required him to see to the details. “Mr. Gardiner, perhaps we should speak of settlements.”

Gardiner’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked at Mr. Darcy quizzically. “Do you wish to discuss it _now_ , Mr. Darcy?”

Darcy blinked. “Actually… well, no.” He smiled guiltily.  “I’d rather sit with Elizabeth in your parlor, sir.”

The older man laughed. “I agree. This is a time to celebrate! If you would like, you may come to my offices later this week. With your approval, I will send an express to Netherfield tomorrow morning to share your news. Shall we join the others?” said Gardiner, and they rose and went to the parlor.

As they entered the room, Elizabeth’s eyes met Darcy’s and he smiled, stepping over to sit next to her on the sofa.

“With your permission, Mr. Darcy?” Gardiner asked, and that gentleman nodded, his smile widening to a silly grin. “If I may have everyone’s attention, I have some happy news. It gives me great joy to announce the betrothal of our niece Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy.”

A chorus of delighted exclamations and cheers rang out, and Elizabeth and Darcy were enveloped by embraces, hearty handshakes and claps on the back. Madeline rang for champagne, and they all drank a toast to the health and felicity of the flushed and radiant couple. Elizabeth and Darcy outlined their preliminary plans. Almost an hour later, Darcy took his leave, intending to go next to his Aunt and Uncle Matlock. Elizabeth went to bid him a private farewell, while the Hursts and Gardiners also rose to make their goodbyes.

“Two pieces of good news, today, Louisa!” Madeline said _sotto voce_ to her friend. “Are you going to tell him tonight?”

“Yes, after dinner,” said Louisa quietly. “Oh, Madeline, I’m so happy!”

They joined their husbands who were also saying their goodbyes. “I will have to do some thinking as to where we will put all of our relations when they arrive,” mused Madeline.

“Jane and Charles must stay with us, of course,” said Hurst, as Louisa finished his sentence.  “And with Caroline still away, we have room for all the girls as well!”

“Louisa, are you sure? That will make quite a house full for you!” exclaimed Madeline.

“I am sure we can cope, Madeline,” assured Hurst. ”Charles and I will barricade ourselves in my study while the ladies control the rest of the house.”

Laughing, the friends parted.

***

Darcy sat alone in the carriage, becoming increasingly nervous the nearer he came to Matlock House. He reflexively relived the horrible scene months before when he and Caroline had talked Bingley out of courting Jane. He regretted not bringing Elizabeth with him. Surely they would not refuse their blessing if she were with him. Not in front of her, anyway.

What if they disapproved? No, he’d been all through this. Elizabeth was the only woman he could ever possibly marry, and he was going to have her. _It did not matter_.

Nevertheless, the corners of his mouth began to sink into an anxious frown

He hoped that Richard and Anne had arrived before him. He hated to visit uninvited but hoped that the news of his betrothal would be enough of an excuse. Upon arriving he was ushered in by the butler, who did a double take at his now scowling face. He led him to the parlor. “My lord, my lady… Mr. Darcy,” the butler intoned sonorously, as he bowed out of the room.

Lord Matlock rose to shake his nephew’s hand. “Good to see you, Darcy.” Darcy moved to his aunt and bowed over her hand.

“Fitzwilliam!” said Lady Matlock, “Richard said you might be visiting us this evening. How are you, dear?” she asked lightly. “Yes, to what do we owe this pleasure?” said his uncle.

Though gestured to a chair, Darcy did not sit. Standing stiffly, he got abruptly to the point.

“Aunt, Uncle, I have asked Miss Elizabeth Bennet for her hand in marriage. She has accepted me, and we plan to marry as soon as her family can travel to town from Hertfordshire. I wanted to inform you of our plans,” he said, glowering at them, daring them to argue.

Lord and Lady Matlock stared at him, and the Earl’s face became stern.

“Miss Bennet, eh? Well… you are of age, my boy, so I can’t stop you. But it is a terrible misalliance any way you look at it,” he harrumphed.

_Here we go._ Darcy stiffened, staring at his feet, his face hardening.

“Your aunt, your cousins, and your sister have all sung Miss Bennet’s praises. To be truthful, boy, I think she may be entirely too good for you.”

Darcy’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. The Earl was smirking, and the countess had fixed an amused but disapproving stare on her husband.

“So, Darcy, why did you glare at us so fiercely? I assume that you expected some resistance?” The Earl looked sympathetically at his nephew. “There are some of your relatives that will no doubt be angry with you, but I am not one of them. You have always shown great loyalty to family, my boy, but in choosing your bride, you should please yourself. Your aunt has given Miss Bennet her complete approval, and that is good enough for me.” The smirk reappeared on the older man’s face. “That, and it will make Catherine furious! That _alone_ is reason enough!”

Darcy dropped into the nearest chair with an ungraceful thump. His betrothal with Elizabeth had never been in doubt, but all the same, relief overwhelmed him.

“Now our dinner party can be a small engagement celebration,” smiled Lady Matlock, clasping her hands. “No engagement ball of course, for a family still in mourning. I daresay you would never have enjoyed that kind of a fuss even if that was not the case, Fitzwilliam.”

“That is correct, Aunt, and Elizabeth shares this opinion. We wish only a very small wedding, as soon as her family can travel from Hertfordshire. Mr. Gardiner will send an express to Netherfield tomorrow, and I will obtain a special license. I daresay we can be wed and off to Pemberley within a week.”

“Within a week!” exclaimed Lady Matlock. “Oh, Fitzwilliam! I understand that you would like nothing better than to whisk your bride off to Derbyshire where you can have her all to yourself, but consider your families! Can we not take a few days to make it a lovely, joyful occasion, especially for a family that has endured such sadness? Can we not at least have a special gown made for her?”

Darcy blinked, mortified. He had fallen back into his old habit of taking control without regard for anyone else. “I am sorry, Aunt. You are right, of course.” He shook his head ruefully. “I never even thought to ask Elizabeth if she would like a new gown, or wedding clothes. Her sisters and her mother might like new clothes as well. And Georgie. And perhaps we should have flowers? I don’t know, Aunt!” He looked perplexedly at her. “How long does it take to have to have gowns made, and flowers ordered?”

“Fitzwilliam, let me speak with Miss Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner tomorrow.” A martial gleam appeared in her eyes. “We will make our plans, and you will not have to worry about a thing. I believe we can have a small, beautiful wedding for you within ten days!”

_Ten days!_ Darcy wanted to be married in one day. “All right, you know best, of course,” he conceded.

He rose. “The hour grows late. I must go.” He looked at his aunt and uncle. “Thank you for your support. I would marry Elizabeth even if you had disapproved, but your blessing means everything to me. I confess I am surprised, however, that you have no concern about what others of the ton will think.”

Lord Matlock opened his mouth to answer, but his wife interjected. “Your uncle does not suffer from the excessive pride of the Fitzwilliam family because he had the good sense to marry the fourth daughter of an impoverished and insignificant baronet.” She grinned at her husband. “He knows a thing or two about defying family and society and marrying for love.”

Lord Matlock eyed his wife and then turned to his nephew. “I could not have expressed it better, and I have nothing to add except to urge you to let the ladies handle it all. They will have everything their way in the end no matter what you do. Now goodnight, my boy. We shall see you soon, I daresay.”

Darcy went home, tired and oddly grateful that all he had to do was get the license. For once, he would let others take care of everything. His only worry was how often he would be able to see Elizabeth in the ensuing rush of wedding planning. He resolved to call on her first thing in the morning before she was swept away by his aunt.

***

Gilbert and Louisa rode home in silence, Gilbert reflecting on the joy he had seen in Darcy and Elizabeth, and Louisa thinking about how he would react to her news.

“Another wedding in the family! Two unhappy people have found joy together!” Gilbert mused aloud. He took his wife’s hand. “I am glad to find that our prediction that Darcy would never overcome his pride was wrong. I only hope they find as much happiness as we have, my love.”

Louisa leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed, exhausted by the excitement of the day.

Upon arriving home they partook of a light supper and then went to sit before the fire in the parlor. Gilbert had noticed his wife’s weariness over the dining table.

“You look very tired, Louisa. And you ate but little of your supper. Are you well?” he asked, shifting himself to look into her face.

She smiled. “I am very well, my dear. My stomach is a little unsettled, but I will try to eat more tomorrow.”

_Now._

She turned toward him and took his hand. “My darling,” she said gently, “I have some more happy news for you.” She took his hand and gently placed it on her slightly rounded belly. “I am increasing, Gilbert. Madeline thinks that our child will be born sometime in early October.”

There was only silence. Louisa raised her eyes to her husband’s face. His eyes were wide, staring at her.

“A baby…. a baby…. _our_ baby…” he stammered. He was silent for a moment, then moved his hand to caress her abdomen. “Oh, my dear, truly? Are you quite sure? Do you need to lie down? Should I call a doctor? Shall I put you to bed? What…”

She put a finger against his lips, silencing him. “You may _take_ me to bed, my love. I feel wonderful. I am perfectly healthy. There is no reason why I cannot enjoy all of our usual activities with as much enthusiasm as ever, at least for the time being.” She smirked at him and waggled her eyebrows.

Gilbert pulled her onto his lap and covered her face with kisses. “Oh, Louisa, Louisa…. You’ve made me so happy, so very happy…. I don’t know that I can ever tell you how much.”

“Then show me, Gilbert,” she sighed, melting into him.

“Every day, for the rest of my life, my darling.” He rose and carried her to her bedchamber, where he spent much of the night expressing his love and joy.

***

Elizabeth rose early and had just finished dressing when a maid brought her a note. Her heart leaped when she recognized the handwriting. She read it and closed her eyes briefly, savoring the lightness of heart that washed over her. One more glance at the mirror, and then grabbing her bonnet and shawl, she left her room and headed down the stairs.

He was waiting by the front door, already looking up the stairs for her. The smile that lit up his face made her weak in the knees, and she almost collapsed on the stair. Gripping the railing, she instead quickened her pace, and upon reaching the bottom step impulsively launched herself into his arms. His expression was priceless.

Momentarily stunned, Darcy rallied and whirled her around, his deep chuckle in her ear. “I can see that my reflexes will have to improve if I am to be your husband!”

Elizabeth, now mortified at her behavior, hid her face in his shoulder. “I do not know what could have made me do such a ridiculous thing, except that I am so happy and surprised to see you this early.”

“I remembered once hearing that you are an early riser, Elizabeth, so I ventured to see if you would go walking with me this morning before our aunts conspire to take you away from me”.

He set her down and taking her bonnet from her hand, settled it on her head and bent to tie the ribbons under her chin.

Elizabeth looked askance at him. “Take me away? Where?”

“After I left you yesterday I visited my aunt and uncle Matlock to inform them of our engagement. They have given us their wholehearted blessing, and my aunt particularly wishes to assist you and Mrs. Gardiner to prepare for our wedding. She has been the closest thing to a mother to me, has no daughter of her own, and she loves to organize. My uncle often says that Richard owes his success in the army to inheriting his mother’s gift for command. A note will no doubt soon arrive inviting you both to Matlock House today.”

He looked at her apologetically. “I did not even think to ask you if you wished to have a new gown for the occasion, or flowers, or what your mother and sisters may require. I was foolish enough to think that we could simply get a license, go to the church, and be married. My aunt is of the opinion that a little more preparation is in order.”

Elizabeth blinked. “I had given no thought to wedding preparations either! Oh, dear! Lady Matlock will not overrule our wish for a small wedding?”

“No, but she would like us to think about taking a little more time with our plans, making our small wedding beautiful, and a sharing our joy with our families for a few days. She is correct, of course.” He sighed. “The only idea I had was marrying immediately and sweeping you off to Pemberley right after the ceremony, but I understand that that plan will not be acceptable for everybody.”

“It is acceptable to _me_ ,” said Elizabeth.

Quickly glancing around the hall, he pulled her into his arms, and she stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. He kissed her forehead, and then worked his way to her eyes, her nose, finally taking her lips. She met his kiss, tightening her arms around him.

“William,” she breathed into his ear, “only think that we will soon be able to start every day like this!”

Darcy closed his eyes and swallowed. His idea of starting every day began with them naked in his bed.

“Perhaps we had better get started, dearest, before the wedding authorities catch up with us.” He moved his hands to her waist, and then regretfully let go of her, taking a step back.

“Oh! I need to inform my aunt that we are going walking!” she exclaimed, and turned toward the hall to seek out Mrs. Gardiner.

“Too late, Elizabeth! I asked her permission before I gave the maid your note. Shall we go to the little park where we took our first walk together?”

Elizabeth beamed her assent, and they stepped out into the early morning sunshine.

They walked around the tiny park, her arm wound around his, their fingers discreetly entwined. Stopping to look over a collection of peonies, Elizabeth leaned her head against his arm and closed her eyes, inhaling their fragrance. She felt him release her arm only to take her left hand in his right, and opened her eyes.

He was tugging at her glove one finger at a time, his expression intent, his head tilted at an angle. “William, have you taken a dislike to my gloves?” she teased.

He smiled. “Only the left one, Elizabeth.” He finally freed her hand, and then removed his own gloves. Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he extracted a small box, and opened it. She caught her breath. It was a delicate ring of an old-fashioned style, with a sapphire surrounded by diamonds set in pale gold. “It was my mother’s,” he said as he slipped it on her finger. “It’s been waiting for you for years, my dearest.”

“Oh, William,” she gasped. ”It is beautiful! I have never seen anything like it!”

She stared at the ring, beginning to comprehend that her life as Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy would be quite different from her life as Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. She raised her eyes to his and was caught in the tenderness of his gaze, his eyes aglow. _I shall do whatever it takes to deserve this man,_ she vowed as she melted into his embrace.  

***

While they were out, the note arrived from Matlock House. Darcy returned Elizabeth to the Gardiners’ home, and kissed her quickly before her aunt entered the hall. With a bow, he bid them both good day, and rode his horse back to Darcy House, scheming as to when he could next get his beloved alone.

After breakfast and some time with the children, Elizabeth and Madeline took the carriage to Matlock House. Lady Matlock welcomed them into a small sitting room that contained comfortable chairs positioned around an elegantly carved round table. She smiled at her guests, and her eyes fell on the sapphire gracing Elizabeth’s finger.

She took Elizabeth’s hand. “I haven’t seen that ring these sixteen years or more.” Lady Matlock blinked quickly, then squeezed her hand and let it go. “It looks as if it was made for you, my dear.”

“Thank you, my lady,” said Elizabeth softly, as the countess settled in at the table.

“Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet, I hope you don’t think it too forward of me to insert myself into plans that you may want to keep within your own family. Just say the word, and I will leave you to it.”

Madeline looked searchingly at her niece and patted her hand. “It is your wedding, Elizabeth. What say you?”

Elizabeth met the gaze of the distinguished lady who was soon to be her aunt, and smiled a little shyly at her. “I would value your opinion, my lady. Mr. Darcy and I agree with your idea of a small celebration for our families. While we would both be happy with a very small, quick, ceremony like the recent wedding of my elder sister, we would like our families to share our joy. We are still in a state of mourning however, and need to plan accordingly.”

“How will your mother feel at not having a say in these preparations?” asked the Countess.

Elizabeth and her aunt exchanged glances. Madeline spoke. “I think my sister Mrs. Bennet will be realistic, my lady.  She is still bereaved and while she is recovering, has not quite regained her bearings. Not to mention, she is unfamiliar with the merchants and tradesmen here in London. Perhaps we can leave some tasks for her when she arrives in town.”

Elizabeth had a guilty sense of relief that her mother was not present, but she was sorely missing her elder sister. She and Jane had oftentimes discussed weddings in their late night conversations, Elizabeth mostly listening. She would have _so_ loved to have Jane with her.

Elizabeth pushed away her still-conflicted feelings about her mother and suggested, “My mother dearly loves to plan lavish meals for her guests. When my father was alive, she liked nothing better than to host dinner parties with many courses. They were always wonderfully planned and beautifully executed.” A shadow flitted over her face as she recalled her father sitting at the head of the dining table at Longbourn, puckish smile and arched eyebrow in place. She blinked furiously for a second, then swallowed and looked at her aunt. “Perhaps when she arrives, she could be in charge of the wedding breakfast.”

Lady Matlock had not missed the fleeting expression of sorrow. _What a gallant little thing she is._ The more she saw of Miss Bennet, the more she liked her. Moreover, she agreed. “That makes perfect sense, dear. If it is something she has always enjoyed, she will feel more comfortable, more within her own element I daresay. Where do you wish to hold the wedding breakfast? Mrs. Gardiner, I believe the bride’s family takes precedence there.”

“Mrs. Bennet can confer with our cook when she arrives, and we can host the wedding breakfast at our home,” replied Madeline.

“Please let me know if you would like extra servants for the occasion. We can send whatever you need from our staff.”

“Thank you, my lady! There will not be a large number of guests attending, but we may take you up on that,” said Madeline.

Elizabeth agreed. “Just family and a few close friends, I believe, Aunt. My mother, my three sisters who live with her, Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, my aunt and uncle Philips, and you and my uncle Gardiner. Sir William Lucas and his family are old and very dear friends of ours from Meryton, and I would like to invite them, and possibly their married daughter, Mrs. Collins. Mr. and Mrs. Hurst would be most welcome, not to mention they are family now. They have been such good and generous friends, and they seem to make every occasion even more enjoyable!” She smiled, thinking of Hurst’s droll levity, and Louisa’s sweet mischievousness.

Lady Matlock sat back in her chair, her eyebrows high. “Hurst? Do you mean that choleric man who is Bingley’s brother? And that mousy little wife of his?”

She looked at Madeline. “Are you well acquainted with them, Mrs. Gardiner?”

Madeline laughed. “Yes, we are, my lady. Our acquaintance with Mr. and Mrs. Hurst began only a few months ago, and I have never known them to be anything but warm and cordial. We count them as very dear friends. However, Elizabeth has depicted them to me as she knew them last year when they first visited Hertfordshire, and your description would have been apt at the time. I believe they have been much happier since their sister, Miss Caroline Bingley, moved out of their home.”

“Oh! Well! That would explain quite a _lot_!” Lady Matlock was well acquainted with Caroline Bingley.  Miss Bingley had been trying to ingratiate herself with the Earl and Countess for years. She shuddered slightly. There had been a time when she had feared that Miss Bingley’s perseverance would wear her nephew down. “I would like to see Mr. and Mrs. Hurst again,” she said thoughtfully.

The conversation had moved from the subject of guests to flowers when the door to the sitting room opened. Anne and Georgiana put their heads around the door, and the Countess invited them in.

“Mrs. Gardiner, may I present my niece, Miss de Bourgh? I believe you have already met Miss Darcy.”

Mrs. Gardiner rose and curtsied, and took Anne’s hand. “I am delighted to finally make your acquaintance, Miss de Bourgh!”

“Would you ladies mind if we joined your discussion?” asked Georgiana. The idea was met with approval and the two younger ladies pulled chairs up to the table.

Elizabeth grinned at Georgiana. “Miss Darcy, I would appreciate any insight from you and Miss de Bourgh as to what the limits of your brother’s patience are. We are trying to keep the occasion simple after all.”

“Miss Bennet, you will try _my_ patience if you continue to call me Miss de Bourgh. Please call me Anne, and I believe I speak for Georgie as well,” said Anne. “May we call you Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth agreed. “Of course, Anne! I am so happy to acquire a new sister and cousin!”

“You cannot be as happy as we are, Elizabeth!” proclaimed Georgiana. “There is a sad shortage of females in our family.”

“As the mother of boys, I have to agree,” commented Lady Matlock wryly. “Now ladies, let us apply our minds to planning and get this wedding underway. _None_ of us wishes to try Fitzwilliam’s patience.”

Within two hours, pots of tea and plates of sandwiches had been consumed, and all the details had been hammered out. Since Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Bennet would take charge of the wedding breakfast, Lady Matlock had offered to order the flowers and see to the church.

The subject of new gowns was broached, but Elizabeth balked at purchasing yet another black dress. Her aunt looked sympathetically at her. “I think in this case, my dear, we may bend a little. There is a small palette of colors that may be suitable; some shades of gray or mauve or violet for example. A girl only has one chance to choose a wedding gown after all.”

“I agree with you, Mrs. Gardiner,” said the countess. “Anne, are there any of those fabric samples from the modiste still about? We can look at any of those that are appropriate, and if none are acceptable to you, Miss Bennet, we can visit her establishment tomorrow.”

A maid was called and dispatched to Anne’s sitting room, and soon returned with a footman, both of them laden with samples and a few bolts of fabric, all in subdued shades. Elizabeth turned over squares of fabric, sorting through shades of gray, mauve, lavender, and purple. Her eyes lit up as she pulled a sample of a deep aubergine silk from the stack. She held it up to her neck as the other ladies exclaimed their approval.

The color lit up Elizabeth’s glowing complexion and showed her dark eyes and chestnut hair to great advantage.

“That is lovely, Elizabeth! Fitzwilliam will be knocked off his feet when he sees you in it!” exclaimed Georgiana.

“I would buy a ticket to see that,” drawled Anne.

Mrs. Gardiner laughed at the diminutive younger lady. “Then we must make sure you have a front row seat, Miss de Bourgh.”

***

The following evening, they all gathered again at Matlock House for the countess’ previously planned dinner. Out of sheer curiosity, Lady Matlock had at the last minute extended her invitation to Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. When the elegant, genial couple was shown into the saloon, and greetings had been exchanged, the Countess quietly met Madeline’s eye, her eyebrows high and her mouth forming an O.

As the dinner progressed, toasts were drunk to the betrothed couple. Mr. Hurst, sitting on Lady Matlock’s left, rose to propose a toast.

He smiled, a champagne flute in his raised hand. “Little did we know, last October, when we visited Hertfordshire, that we were witnessing the beginnings of a love story. Although,” he turned and winked at his wife. “Louisa and I did have an inkling.” Louisa grinned and winked back amid general chuckling as her husband continued. “We are both thrilled that our speculations turned out to be accurate. To Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, our old friend, and to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, our new sister, we drink to your now and future happiness.” 

The assembled company cheered, clinked their glasses and drank. Lady Matlock observed him thoughtfully as he sat down. She leaned over toward him and said quietly, “Well done, Mr. Hurst.” In future, she would be adding the Hursts and the Gardiners to her guest list more often. They were, after all, practically family.

After dinner, they assembled company moved to the music room where Louisa, Georgiana, and Elizabeth played and sang. At length the evening drew to a close. Darcy and Elizabeth quietly glowed,  basking in each other’s company and in the love and support of their family and friends. Lord and Lady Matlock delighted in their new acquaintances, and Mr. Gardiner gained three new business associates.

***

Over the next few days, the wedding preparations took on a life of their own. The time and place were chosen for the ceremony, invitations were dispatched, flowers were ordered and the bridal gown was fitted.

Elizabeth wrote a special invitation to Charlotte, in the guise of an ordinary letter. She suspected that Mr. Collins would not only decline, but decline for himself and his wife, not to mention tattle to Lady Catherine, so he was excluded. Within a few days she had her response. Charlotte would travel to London, ostensibly to meet her family there for a few days, and then accompany Anne back to Rosings. If Lady Catherine was under the impression that Mrs. Collins undertook the journey solely to accompany her daughter home, so much the better.

***

Even with the happy anticipation of marriage, the prospect of her mother’s arrival had Elizabeth on tenterhooks. She did not wish to be under the same roof as her mother, could think of nothing to say to her, yet could see no way out. Shortly before the Bennet carriage was to arrive, Mr. Darcy was ushered into the Gardiners’ sitting room, to her great relief. Mrs. Gardiner welcomed him warmly and left momentarily to see to some refreshment for him.

“Oh, William! You came! Thank you!” said Elizabeth, as he sat down next to her and took both of her hands in his. She met his eye sheepishly. “I am being such a goose about this!”

“Elizabeth, I believe you incapable of being gooseish about anything,” Darcy replied quietly. “Your mother caused you a considerable amount of pain in an already dire situation. It is only natural that you would feel anxious about encountering her again.” He glanced quickly at the door and then wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. He kissed her temple and then met her eye.

“I do not know your mother well, but if I were to hazard a guess, I would say that Mrs. Bennet will treat you as her current favorite.”

Elizabeth leaned away, regarding him with a skeptical eye. “I was never her favorite even at the best of times, William.”

He smiled at her dubious expression. “My dearest, you last saw your mother less than a fortnight after your father’s death. Since that time, her worries have vanished. She has one daughter married and another betrothed. Her remaining daughters will be educated and prepared to come out in wider society. She will always have a comfortable place to live and servants to care for her. She no longer has anything to fear. She may have even forgotten her antipathy towards you.”

He cocked his head to one side, looking down at her with concern. “Do you think you can stay here with her, Elizabeth? If not, my aunt would gladly offer her hospitality. She likes you, you know.”

Elizabeth smiled ruefully at that. “That is very kind of her.” Sighing, she went on, “I would very much to get to know Lady Matlock better. But I cannot leave my uncle’s house. They are as dear to me as my own parents, in some ways even more. When I leave to begin my new life, it will be from this house. I will simply have to be an adult about it,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Darcy squeezed her shoulder and leaned in for a light kiss. “That’s my brave girl.”

They heard Mrs. Gardiner’s quick step in the hall and Darcy quickly pulled his arm back to his side and shifted away from Elizabeth. Mrs. Gardiner came in to the room, slightly breathless. “They’re here, Lizzy. Will you be all right?”

“Yes, Aunt,” said Elizabeth firmly, her chin rising slightly, “I will be.” She smiled up at Darcy and they rose together, his fingertips skimming lightly down her back before he stepped away to the other side of the room.

Mrs. Gardiner hurried toward the front door, and within minutes they could hear the excited voices of the Bennet family as they entered the house, all talking at once. The voices grew louder until the ladies burst into the sitting room.

“Lizzy!” they cried as one, and then Elizabeth was swept into a series of hugs, first by Lydia, then Kitty, and finally into a gentle embrace by Mary.

“We’ve missed you so, Lizzy,” she said into her sister’s ear. Mary stepped back, holding Elizabeth at arm’s length. “You look so happy! Is this all Mr. Darcy’s doing?”

“Yes, mostly.” Elizabeth looked into her sister’s eyes and said softly, “He is such a good man, Mary. I love him.”

Mary glanced sideways at her new brother. “And he loves you, that is obvious. I am very happy for you both.”

Elizabeth glimpsed movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see her mother bustling towards her. Tensing, she moved to meet her, then felt a strong, warm hand cup her elbow.

“Oh, Lizzy! Two daughters married! I shall go distracted…,” began Mrs. Bennet, when she glanced up and her voice faded.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Darcy, with a slight bow, his countenance serious, but not unkind.

“Oh… Good afternoon to you, Mr. Darcy, I am sure. I… I must thank you again for your visit to us at Netherfield…” Mrs. Bennet seemed to be at a loss for words.

“I was my pleasure, madam, and indeed it is a pleasure to see you again today. I am greatly anticipating your guiding hand on the preparations for our wedding breakfast.”

Mrs. Bennet relaxed and smiled slightly. “Thank you, sir. You must give me a list of your favorite dishes, Mr. Darcy, and those of Miss Darcy.” She turned again to Elizabeth. “Oh, Lizzy, how great you will be…. and how kind he is….” She began to sniffle. “And your father would be so happy…..”

Mrs. Gardiner appeared at her side. “Dear Fanny, you must be exhausted. Let me to take you to your room.” The two ladies left the room, and Elizabeth exhaled and sat down.

“That went well,” commented Lydia brightly.

Kitty closed her eyes. “Lydia…”

“I must agree with Lydia,” said Mary quietly. Her eyes moved to her youngest sister. “Although perhaps not aloud.”

Elizabeth stared at them, her eyes moving from her sisters’ faces to that of her betrothed, who was smirking at her. She looked at him, then her sisters, and began to laugh. “I have missed you all so very much!”

Shortly after, Mr. Darcy took his leave. There was to be a dinner at Darcy House that evening, when all the family had arrived. Hurst sent his carriage for the Bennet sisters, who were warmly welcomed into their home by Louisa. The Bingleys arrived last, and the wedding festivities began.

***

Mr. and Mrs. Bingley had chosen to gift the Bennet ladies with new gowns for the wedding, and much of the days leading up to the ceremony were spent in fitting rooms. Mrs. Bennet, still fragile, immersed herself in the details of the wedding breakfast.

Georgiana, even at the tender age of seventeen, was far more comfortable navigating London’s shops that its society. At the behest of her brother, she took charge of her new sister’s wardrobe and led Elizabeth through a bewildering series of visits to drapers, milliners, and modistes. Her head spinning, Elizabeth’s protests were in vain. “Do not quibble, Elizabeth!” insisted Georgiana. “Fitzwilliam wishes to pamper and spoil you a little. Not to mention, once we remove to Pemberley, you might not get back to town for months!”

***

Mr. Darcy was growing restive. Besides the endless fittings and shopping, there were gatherings of one kind or another almost every day at Darcy House, the Hursts’ in Grosvenor Square, in Gracechurch Street or at the Earl’s residence. In the whirlwind of preparation, sometimes an entire day would go by when he was not able to have Elizabeth to himself, even for a moment. It was all he could do not to abduct her from her uncle’s house, throw her in his carriage and drive off as fast as his horses would go. He chided himself. Elizabeth deserved a beautiful wedding, surrounded by family and friends, with all the preparations that would entail. He would have her by his side for the rest of his life.

It was Bingley who first took note of Darcy’s discomfiture. As the days ticked by, a small conspiracy formed to allow the lovers some time alone. Georgiana, Anne, Richard, Louisa and Gilbert, Jane and Charles, Kitty, Lydia, and even Mary pretended to be oblivious as Darcy occasionally pulled Elizabeth away from the group and into darkened hallways or alcoves for whispered conversations and stolen kisses. Charlotte joined the silent collaboration when she arrived two days prior to the wedding.

***

Captain Lord David Riverton, the old baron’s nephew and heir, had hurried home from his posting in Egypt as quickly as he could, and managed to spend several days at his beloved uncle’s bedside before the old man died.

Sophy and David, friends since childhood, sat at the small table in the Baron’s sitting room. “Rupert was never one for a fuss, David. I believe that the simplest, most traditional funeral service would have been to his liking. Perhaps a hymn. He told me that his mother loved _Come Thou Font of Every Blessing.”_ Sophy smiled sadly at David. ”He spoke of his mother quite often these last few weeks. Did he speak of your grandmother to you?”

“Oh, yes, whenever I stayed with him,” said David. “And my grandfather, too. He quite adored his parents, and my father, too. I always thought it a terrible tragedy he never had any children of his own.” He returned Sophy’s sad smile. “We were his children, Sophy.”

“We must send him off in the best possible way then,” she answered. “And we must remember him always.”

“David,” she continued, with the barest quiver of her chin, “I wish to attend the service for Rupert. I know it is not considered appropriate for ladies to do so, but… well… it’s rather hard to explain, but I don’t want him to leave the house for the last time without me. I would of course not attend the interment.”

David reached across the table and took her hand. “Of course. I understand. I’ll speak with the rector.”

***

Baron Riverton’s earthly remains lay in state for three days, as neighbors, tenants, and old friends came to pay their respects. Although most of his contemporaries were long dead, a number of titled gentlemen traveled down from London for the funeral service. Sophronia welcomed the work of planning and hosting as a distraction from her grief. Alfred, along with her other friends, watched her carefully, ready to offer comfort when needed.

The day of the funeral service arrived. David had gone ahead to Abbotsford’s chapel and Sophronia was waiting with Alfred and her other guests to walk to the service together. When she had determined to attend the funeral, the other ladies had chosen to accompany her.

“Miss Bingley hasn’t come downstairs yet,” said Lord Drayton quietly to his wife. “I will wait to escort her to the chapel, my dear. You and the others, especially Broughton, should go with Sophy. Dashed rude of the chit to keep us waiting,” he grumbled.

Annabelle nodded and the group left for the chapel.

No sooner had they been seated in the pews at the front of the church, than Drayton appeared at the chapel door with Miss Bingley on his arm, red-faced and clearly mortified. One glance at Miss Bingley was explanation enough.

Her mourning dress, though black, was anything but subdued. It was profusely adorned with black velvet ribbons, lace, and jet beads. The décolletage was indecent. She wore a black bonnet decorated with feathers and a beaded veil that came down to her collarbones. The combination of dark fabric and pale exposed skin in the semi-darkness of the chapel gave the impression of a pair of bosoms floating around under their own power.

The assembled mourners gaped openly, until the opening chords of the processional recalled them to the occasion. Annabelle turned her eyes to her friend. Sophronia seemed to be controlling her emotions without obvious effort. She took one of Sophy’s hands in hers and David took the other hand, and the three sat together through the service.

Listening to the scripture reading and letting the organ music pour over her, Sophronia was glad that she had broken with tradition and come. Rupert had been her rock since she was a little girl. He had rejoiced in his own life yet had met death gladly. She was bereft, yet grateful, as she let memories engulf her.

When the last chord had died away, the ladies left the chapel and returned to the manor house, while the assembled gentlemen followed the coffin to the family tomb under the sanctuary…..

The ladies walked to the house in silence with the exception of Miss Bingley, who rattled on about the most distinguished of the mourners who had been present. _As if it were some sort of party,_ marveled Annabelle, shocked to her core. She and Judith walked on either side of Sophronia, watching for any indications of distress, but the widow was calm and self-possessed.

When they reached the hall, Sophronia turned to the other ladies. “I will retire to my room, my friends, if you will excuse me,” she said. “I need some time to collect my thoughts.”

Annabelle’s arm encircled Sophronia’s shoulders. “Call for us if you want some company,” she whispered in her ear.

 

 


	15. "Can you die of happiness?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the last chapter, and I will also post the epilogue. You may notice that I have given the Bennet's cook a name. For this story, she has become Mrs. Jenks. As I edited, it was getting a little awkward calling her Cook all the time!
> 
> I very much hope that you have all enjoyed this story!

On the eve of the wedding, Matlock House glittered. Though an engagement ball had been out of the question, Lady Matlock had spared no effort for her small celebration. The magnificent home was alight with candles, marble and silver gleamed, polished wood glowed, and as always, there were flowers in profusion.

Mr. and Mrs. Hurst had been recent guests, as had the Gardiners, and Mr. Bingley was also acquainted with the well-appointed home. The Bennets, the Philips’, and the Lucases were unaccustomed to such luxury. As Elizabeth’s family was led through the magnificent hall, all conversation ceased, jaws dropped and heads swiveled. Charlotte, by now accustomed to great houses through her familiarity with Rosings, prodded Kitty and Lydia gently and they closed their mouths. Sir William and Lady Lucas walked slowly, intent as they were in memorizing every detail to share with their neighbors in Meryton.

They were shown to the drawing room where Lord and Lady Matlock, with Colonel Fitzwilliam, greeted them. Conversation was stilted at first, overawed as some of the guests were by their surroundings, but the easy manners of Lady Matlock, the Colonel, and the Gardiners soon had the entire company relaxing.

After almost an hour of introductions and conversation, the butler announced dinner. Lady Matlock had seated Mrs. Bennet at her right. Elizabeth exchanged a worried glance with her fiancé, but he only smiled and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Mrs. Bennet looked nervous and fragile as she smiled tentatively and was seated next to the Countess.

“Mrs. Bennet, your daughter has described to me the wonderful dinners you have hosted. I must confess I am looking forward to the wedding breakfast almost as much as the wedding!” said Lady Matlock kindly.

Mrs. Bennet perked up. “Oh, my lady! Thank you!” she replied breathlessly. She launched into an enthusiastic and detailed description of the courses planned for the meal until Lady Matlock’s head positively spun. As Mrs. Bennet paused to draw a breath, a voice from her other side interrupted.

“Mrs. Bennet, how does your cook like her new kitchen?” It was Hurst, endeavoring to draw her attention from the Countess. He was successful, for which he earned a grateful look from her ladyship.

The dinner, with many courses, drew to a close. The men lingered briefly for cigars and brandy, and then joined the ladies in the large drawing room, where the assembled company broke into small groups and settled into chairs.

***

“Jane and I will return to Netherfield after the wedding, but we have decided to purchase a house in town before the next season,” said Bingley. He was sitting with Darcy and the Colonel, the older gentlemen having joined in a discussion on the finer points of the law concerning land disputes, a subject on which Mr. Phillips was an expert.

“How about Netherfield? Have you found the estate you were looking for?” asked the Colonel.

Bingley tugged at his neckcloth, his mouth quirking up on one side. “My wife and I have discovered that there is such a thing as being a little too close to family, as dear as they are to us. We have decided together to move into town when the lease to Netherfield expires, and to begin the search anew for an estate.”

“I have heard of a small estate not thirty miles from Pemberley that may go on the market,” put in Darcy. “Would you like for me to investigate, Bingley?”

Bingley scoffed and punched him gently in the arm. “As a newly married man myself, Darcy, I will be astonished if you can spare attention for anything but your beautiful bride. Later, when you have the time and inclination, I would be most happy to learn more about it.”

He frowned slightly. “There remains the question of where our mother-in-law will live after September, when the lease expires.”

 Darcy blinked. He had had every intention of handling that, but had forgotten it in the round of wedding plans. “Pray, let me take responsibility for that, Bingley. You have already done so much for the family, and I have contributed embarrassingly little. I will speak with Mr. Phillips and Mr. Gardiner about finding a suitable house. Of course we will need to ascertain whether Mrs. Bennet is desirous of staying in Meryton.”

The two gentlemen met each other’s eyes gravely. There remained the possibility that Mrs. Bennet might wish to live with one of her married daughters, a sobering prospect indeed. Bingley heaved a sigh. “Let’s not think about that today. Only happy thoughts on this occasion, brother!”

Darcy grinned. “Indeed, brother.”

“You do realize that I have sacrificed my wife’s company tonight, Darcy. For the sake of your marital bliss, that is.”

“Yes, Elizabeth told me that Jane is staying with her at the Gardiner’s home this evening,” smiled Darcy. After a pause, he said reflectively, “They have missed each other.”

After another pause, Bingley nodded pensively. “We are both very lucky men, Darcy,”

To Richard, the conversation was growing rather too serious. Feeling slightly left out as the only unattached man in the room, he endeavored to lighten the mood.

“Darcy! I’ve just had an idea! Shall Bingley and I keep you company tonight? We can hold your hand and try to assuage your delicate sensibilities,” he cooed solicitously. Darcy snorted and pretended to glare at his cousin, while Bingley roared with laughter.

“My only fear is that I may not be able to sleep a wink,” Darcy replied, doing his best not to smile. “So if you would like to attend me and either ply me with brandy, or hit me over the head with a mallet, you may do so.”

***

As the couples mixed and mingled in conversation, the unmarried ladies sat together and chatted. Georgiana was smiling, hoping her nervousness among strangers wasn’t obvious, when she encountered Mary’s quiet gaze. “How go your duets with Lizzy, Miss Darcy?” she asked, smiling encouragingly.

“Oh, we had just begun to practice one piece when Fitzwilliam proposed, and in the ensuing preparations, we have not had time to work on it. I suppose it will have to wait until we are together at Pemberley again. Not that I would have it any other way, of course,” she added quickly.

“Will you be traveling to Pemberley with your brother and Lizzy?” asked Mary.

Georgiana smiled wryly. “They have invited me, but I think Elizabeth should see her new home for the first time with Fitzwilliam alone. I will stay with my aunt while Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam are at Darcy House. Then I plan to stay on in the townhouse for another few weeks after they leave for Pemberley, although I am considering taking the knocker off the door.” She looked embarrassed and leaned over to Mary and whispered, “In case Miss Bingley should try to call.” She sat up and continued in a normal voice. “Then we will close the townhouse for the summer, and I will travel on to Derbyshire.”

“I will also be staying in London, Miss Darcy. My aunt is going to hire a music master for me, and perhaps some other tutors as well! I am so excited! I feel as if I am a child anticipating a birthday party!”

Georgiana lit up, her shyness forgotten. “Oh, Miss Mary! I know just who your aunt should engage for your music lessons. And I can suggest a drawing master as well! We must spend some time together before I leave for Derbyshire!”

The two young ladies fell into deeper conversation, and within a few minutes had headed for Lady Matlock’s music room.

Anne, Charlotte, Kitty, and Lydia were left sitting together, Anne and Charlotte listening to an account of the winter weather in Hertfordshire.

“We were almost completely housebound. I have never seen the snow that deep, and the wind! What was it like in Kent?” asked Kitty.

Anne looked at Charlotte. “I would say we were fortunate, do you agree Mrs. Collins? We did have snowstorms, but it was more likely sleet or freezing rain. We did have storms of ice, that broke off many branches from the trees. Nothing to compare to Hertfordshire, or Derbyshire for that matter. They were completely snowed in at Pemberley for months!”

Charlotte looked at Kitty. “My father told me that neither of your farmhands were able to make their way back to Longbourn after Christmas. Who helped Emmons with the horses and livestock?”

Kitty looked at Lydia. “Our footmen stepped in, but they also had duties in the house. Lizzy also did some of the chores, but Lydia took over most of them.”

“Bravo, Miss Lydia!” said Anne.

Lydia blushed happily and chattered, “I’m the tallest, Miss de Bourgh, and the strongest. Poor Lizzy had enough to do. I was glad to be helpful. All my sisters were working so hard.” She grinned, and her eyes lit up. “Lizzy said I was an amazon! Of course, I’m not really an amazon. I have both my bos….oh… oh. Well.” Lydia trailed off awkwardly.

“Lydia…” moaned Kitty, her head in her hands.

Charlotte, blushing madly, said soothingly, “I’m sure that you were a great help, Lydia.”

Anne’s eyebrows had nearly reached her hairline, and she was grinning from ear to ear. “Do not worry on my account, Miss Catherine! I think you were all very brave!”

The ladies heard coughing and looked up. Colonel Fitzwilliam had approached them unnoticed while they were talking, and was standing behind Lydia. He was beet red and appeared to have broken into a sweat.

“Are you all right, Richard?” Anne asked tremulously, biting her lip.

“Shall I pat you on the back?” asked Lydia helpfully.

Richard regained his voice and said rasped, “Thank you, Miss Lydia, I am quite all right. I simply need a glass of water. Cold water.” _And perhaps a cold bath._ He excused himself and headed for the refreshment tables _._

Anne, beaming, looked again at Lydia. “This is such fun! I don’t believe I have ever seen Richard turn quite that color before. I do hope you will stay with me at Rosings someday, ladies. I would love to have you visit me on one of your school holidays!”

***

The hour grew late, and it was time for the guests to take their leave. Anne had reluctantly retired early, and the others were now saying their goodbyes. The Gardiners and Mrs. Bennet were bidding the Countess a good evening, and Elizabeth had stepped into the corridor to seek out Georgiana when a long arm shot out and pulled her into a darkened room. Her surprised laughter was stilled by a pair of lips descending on her own, at first gently, but then more demanding as her lips parted. The kiss deepened and their embrace tightened until they loosened their hold to gasp for air. She laid her head against his chest as he whispered, ”My wife. My dearest wife. After tomorrow we will never have to be parted again.” Elizabeth slid her hands under his coat and stroked his back, feeling his body respond. Too overcome for words, all she could do was blink back her tears and kiss his neck. Upon hearing footsteps in the corridor, they broke apart. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Tomorrow,” he said hoarsely. “Tomorrow,” she whispered. He glanced at the door. “You’d better go,” he whispered, propelling her toward the door. With a lingering gaze at him, she stepped back out into the corridor.

***

Just over an hour later, Jane and Elizabeth were stretched out on Elizabeth’s bed. Their aunt had smilingly offered to keep their mother occupied so that she would not remember to deliver _the talk_ to her second daughter on the eve of her wedding.

“The night before Charles and I were married, Mama was too distracted to talk to me, so Aunt Gardiner explained what men and women do together, for which I am eternally grateful,” said Jane, her cheeks still pink, after she had gently explained the basics to her sister.

 “Were you frightened, Jane?” asked Elizabeth.

 Jane took Elizabeth’s hand. “I could never be frightened of Charles,” said Jane. “Never. He is so good and loving. Sometimes I think he is just made of love. I was nervous, to be sure. But our aunt helped me understand that when you love and trust your husband, it is an act of love. It is a way of expressing love. Charles even told me he could wait, since it was so soon after Papa died. I had wished to be his wife for so long, I did not want to wait, in spite of everything else. It just made me feel even closer to him. We are part of each other now.” She paused. “Are you frightened, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m not afraid of William.” She blushed. “That’s what he likes me to call him. No one else uses that name.”

“He loves you very deeply, Lizzy.”

“I know. And I love him. I trust him. I trust him completely.” She was lost in thought for a few minutes. “I am not afraid of William,” she repeated. “I am afraid of being... vulnerable. Having him see me naked. But I feel such desire for him. I can hardly keep from touching him. I cannot _wait_ to see him naked. Don’t laugh at me, Jane.”

The two sisters dissolved into giggles, their faces scarlet. “Who would have thought we would ever be talking about _this_!” exclaimed Elizabeth. Their giggles subsiding, Jane reached over to Elizabeth and raised her chin so that they were looking into each other’s eyes.

“Lizzy,” she said earnestly, “You and Mr. Darcy love each other dearly. You have overcome so much to find each other. When you make love… when you give each other pleasure… when you are joined… it is the physical embodiment of your love. You become one in every sense of the word. It is as if you discover you had never been whole before, and now you are.”

She dropped her hand, and was thoughtful for a moment. “It is natural to be nervous. I don’t think you will be nervous for long, my sister. Just trust your husband, and follow your instincts.”

They heard a light tap, and Madeline put her head around the door. “Come in, Aunt,” said Elizabeth, and Madeline quickly stepped in. She sat down on the bed between her nieces and wrapped her arms around their shoulders. “Is all well?” she asked. “Yes, Aunt,” said Lizzy, “and thank you. Thank you, thank you.”

***

The wedding day of Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet dawned bright and clear. Mrs. Bennet had been up before the sun. Mrs. Hill and Mrs. Jenks had arrived from Netherfield the day before and were now acting as cook’s assistants, until it was time to dress for the ceremony.

Elizabeth and Jane dressed carefully, while the preparations continued apace downstairs. Madeline, Mrs. Bennet, Hill, Jenks, and the children had already left for the church, even little Henry. The Hursts and their houseguests were already there, as were the Earl and Countess, and all the guests from outside London. Elizabeth and Jane rode with their Uncle Gardiner to the church. They descended from the carriage, and entered through the enormous doors. Moments later they stood just outside the door to a small side chapel, and the Countess appeared beside them. She helped Jane shake out Elizabeth’s dress and then kissed Elizabeth’s cheek. Her eyes were damp. “You look lovely, child. Fitzwilliam is a very lucky man.” Then she turned to Jane. “Remember, my dear, when you hear the music, start down the aisle.” And she was gone.

Minutes later, the organist played the first few notes, and the music swelled. Uncle Gardiner opened the doors. The chapel was laden with flowers, the air full of their perfume. Jane kissed Elizabeth’s cheek, and started down the aisle.

Edward smiled at his niece, his eyes bright. “I know I am a poor substitute for your Papa, Lizzy, but I feel he is with us today. He is happy for you, and so am I.”

“Oh, Uncle. I can never thank you and my aunt enough,” she answered, her voice wavering.

He kissed her cheek. “Just be happy, Lizzy. That is all the thanks we could wish for.”

***

In front of the altar, Darcy took his place next to the Colonel. He took a deep breath, adjusted his cravat, checked his cuffs, stared down at his shoes, shifted from one foot to the other, squared his shoulders, and adjusted his cravat again.  He turned to his cousin and as he opened his mouth, Richard held up the ring. “Yes, Darce, for the twentieth time, I have it.”

The music started. Darcy took another deep breath and let his eyes wander over the small congregation. There was the Earl and Countess, sitting with Georgie and Anne, all smiling. The Hursts, who had eyes only for each other. Elizabeth’s family, all of them, even the Gardiner children on their best behavior. Bingley, barely able to contain himself, smirking at his obvious case of nerves.  And Jane, stunningly beautiful as always, coming up the aisle.

And… there she was.

She floated up the aisle on her uncle’s arm, the aubergine of her dress setting off her glowing complexion, her rosy lips, her chestnut curls in a cloud around her head, her dark, sparkling eyes fixed on him.

The vision bowled him over, and he felt himself sway slightly. Richard put a steadying hand at his back. Anne dug her bony elbow in Georgiana’s ribs and they both giggled.

And then she was beside him, and her uncle gave her away, and they faced each other. The minister led them through the service. He knelt for the prayers, repeated his vows in all the appropriate places, slid the ring onto her finger, but later Darcy would never remember any of it. All he could see was her face.

The organist struck the first chords of the recessional, and with a start Darcy realized that he had managed to sleepwalk through his own wedding. Elizabeth was smiling up at him, her eyes twinkling. “Wake up, husband,” she said out of the side of her mouth, and they turned to walk back down the aisle. Their audience could contain themselves no longer, however, and before they had walked a few steps, everyone was out of their seats, and they were enveloped in hugs and kisses, and congratulations.

They managed to sign the register and, pelted by rice, Darcy and Jane got Elizabeth and her gown into his carriage. Jane waved them on and turned to embrace her husband. Lady Matlock’s footmen gathered most of the flowers, leaving some for the church, and loaded the others into a carriage to leave posthaste for Gracechurch Street. Mrs. Bennet and the entire Gardiner family also hurried back, to ready the wedding breakfast before the guests began to arrive.

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy gazed at each other from across the carriage. “Can we not sit next to one another, William?” she asked, her head slightly tilted, her eyes alight, a small smile curving her lips.

He tore his gaze away from her for a moment, and opened the window. “Take the long way, Jennings.”

“Yes, sir,” answered the coachman. Darcy closed the window.

“In answer to your question, Elizabeth, we can,” he said, moving gingerly across the moving vehicle to take his place beside her. “But I cannot guarantee the survival of your exquisite coiffure.” He took her in his arms. ”At _last_ ,” he breathed, and kissed her.

By the time they arrived at Gracechurch Street, all the guests had arrived, and the tables were laden with food. With flushed cheeks and rumpled hair, they entered to a chorus of cheers.

Mrs. Bennet, with the help of Mrs. Hill, Mrs. Jenks, the Gardiner’s kitchen staff, and one of the Countess’ undercooks, had outdone herself. The wedding breakfast rivaled any offering of the best houses in London in elegance, variety, and sheer delectability.  Course after delicious course arrived at the tables. Bottle after bottle of wine and champagne were opened.

At last, the centerpiece of the meal was brought out. As their special wedding gift, Mrs. Hill and Mrs. Jenks had lovingly prepared the bride’s pie.

“Oh, Mrs. Hill,” quavered Elizabeth. “And Mrs. Jenks. Thank you.” Mr. Darcy rose and bowed to them, then shook their hands. “You take good care of her now,” sniffled Mrs. Hill. “I promise, madam,” he replied.

The pace of consumption finally slowed as the guests were replete. All present were relaxed and convivial, the smallest ones full of sweets.  Little Henry Gardiner had eaten all the cake he could manage and had availed himself of every lap in the room, even the Earl’s.

Lord Matlock leaned back in his chair with a groan. “I don’t know when I have ever eaten so much,” he moaned. “Mrs. Bennet,” he rose laboriously to his feet and raised a glass. “My sincere compliments, madam.”

Mrs. Bennet beamed, feeling happier than she had in months. An _earl_ , for heaven’s sake, had complimented her. She wished her Tom was there to see. Her smile wilted a bit, and her eyes filled. Mary and Kitty appeared at her side.

“It’s all right, Mama,” Kitty whispered.

“Yes. Yes, it is. Thank you, girls,” she answered, somewhat wobbily, and took her seat.

***

The afternoon was drawing to a close when the newlyweds bid their loved ones adieu and boarded the carriage for Darcy House.

“My wife,” said Darcy, pulling Elizabeth onto his lap for a deep lingering kiss. Lifting his head, he sighed. “I am glad my aunt urged us to have a real wedding, Lizzy. It was beautiful. _You_ are beautiful. But I was beginning to wonder if I would ever have you all to myself for more than a few minutes at a time again.”

Elizabeth leaned her head on his shoulder. “It was just right, wasn’t it? I would have never wanted it any other way, even if my family had not been in mourning. And now I can have _you_ all to myself.”

They kissed again and again, long, languorous kisses, lost to time until the carriage stopped in front of Darcy House. Her carefully crafted coiffure had given up the fight, shining curls sticking up at odd angles or spiraling out of their pins down to her shoulders. Darcy regretfully let go of her and alighted, handing his bride down only to lift her into his arms and carry her over the threshold.

He set her down and they turned to greet the butler and housekeeper, who offered their welcome, asked if there was anything they required, and then discreetly vanished. Blushing, Elizabeth embraced her husband and buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.

“We’re home, my dearest heart,” Darcy murmured in her ear. “Do you want any refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?”

Elizabeth was almost overcome by shyness. What should they do? Go straight to bed? Sit in the saloon and pretend it was an ordinary evening?

“A glass of wine would be lovely, William,” she quavered, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears.

“Are you nervous, my heart?”

“No… yes… I…” she stammered. “I just… hope I can please you, William,” she mumbled into his cravat.

His arms tightened. “Let us please, and pleasure, each other, my love.”

 “Then… perhaps I should call a maid, William? To help me prepare for… um…”

“Bed, Mrs. Darcy?” he whispered in her ear. His hands began to stroke her back. He raised his head and said, “We do need to hire a proper lady’s maid for you. But until then….” He kissed her again, moving from her lips down to the curve of her neck. “Is there anything _I_ might do to… assist you?”

“Well, I might need assistance with buttons…,” she gasped. “And there are laces and…. my hair…”

“I can untie laces. I can remove hairpins.” His hands slid down and around her bottom, as he tugged the neckline of her gown off her shoulder with his teeth. “I can’t wait any longer, darling. My bed or yours?”

“Oh… er… yours, I think, William,” she squeaked.

“Lizzy,” he breathed. He pulled her to him, hugging her so tightly she lost her breath, then swept her up in his arms and strode across the hall to the stairs and up, taking them two at a time, kicking the door of his room shut behind them.

He set her down on her feet, taking her mouth for a lingering kiss before turning her and setting to work on the tiny buttons of her gown. He worked intently, pausing occasionally to kiss her neck and shoulders. Elizabeth could feel his hair tickling the skin between her shoulder blades and shivered. As her gown loosened, she shrugged her shoulders clear of it and turned to face him, her delicate skin flushed. Their eyes met for a moment, then she reached up and began untying his cravat. When it fell to the floor she unbuttoned his waistcoat as he set upon the ties of her corset.

He lowered his head and again tasted her lips, and then moved his mouth tantalizingly along her jawline, lightly nipping, searching for the pulse point below her ear, the fragment of a dream flitting through his mind. _I wonder…_ He reached it, and feathered kisses against it, swirling lightly with his tongue.

Elizabeth gasped, her eyes flying wide open only to flutter closed again, her body tensing for a split second before she moaned and arched against him, moving her hands down his neck and across his chest, then underneath his shirt to stroke his back. Suddenly, she simply could not get close enough. She captured his mouth with hers again, their lips parting as they drank deeply of each other. His hands also roamed, following the curve of her waist down past the swell of her hips and around to her bottom. His coat dropped to the floor, followed by gown, waistcoat, shirt, breeches, and finally, the fine silk chemise floated gently down.

“Do you trust me, Elizabeth?” he asked, pulling her flush against his body. “Yes,” she sighed, relaxing against him, “yes. With all my heart.”

***

Darcy’s eyelids fluttered and opened. Light from the three quarter moon streamed through the windows. He lay on his back, completely relaxed, Elizabeth in his arms, her head on his chest. She was asleep, her hair spread across his chest and shoulders, their legs intertwined. Her skin was smooth and warm under his touch, her hair silky, tangled in his fingers.

Was this a dream, like so many he had had before? He felt as if he was floating, as if they were drifting together in moonlight. He had so often imagined making love to Elizabeth but nothing, _nothing_ could have prepared him for the sensation of his hands sliding along her curves, her fingertips moving over him, her body rising to meet his, her voice gasping his name. She shifted slightly, nuzzling and then kissing his chest. “William,” she whispered, and then sighing, relaxed back into sleep. He closed his eyes as deep waves of peace and joy overwhelmed him. _Can you die of happiness?_ His heart swelled and his throat tightened. He breathed in deeply, and let himself slide back into slumber.

Later, Elizabeth stirred, warm and drowsy. The sky outside was beginning to lighten. Strong arms encircled her from the back, a large hand curved possessively around her breast. She turned in her beloved’s arms and met his warm gaze.

He tightened his hold on her. “Did you sleep well, love? You were dreaming, were you not?”

She chuckled, slightly embarrassed. “Was it that obvious? I _was_ dreaming.” A faint pink blush began to bloom across her cheeks. “It was terribly strange. We were at Longbourn. We were….” The blush deepened. “We were... together…on my bed in my room.” She buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder. “I would swear I was in my own bed with my head on my own pillow. I could even smell my perfume on it. But the beds and bedlinens remained at Longbourn when my family moved out. I have not seen them in months.”

Elizabeth stole a sheepish glance at him. To her surprise, Darcy looked uncomfortable. His eyes moved involuntarily to the head of his enormous bed and she followed his gaze with her own. Her eyes widened.

“Is that… that is… my _pillow_?” she cried, rolling onto her belly and propping herself up on one elbow. She reached for it. “It _is_!” 

Elizabeth sat up with the pillow in her hands, staring at it, and then turned to look at her husband. “How did you get my pillow?” She looked at it again in amazement. “William, did you _steal_ my pillow?”

Darcy was by now beyond embarrassment, but there was nothing for it but to confess. “I did not steal your pillow Elizabeth! I have never stolen anything in my life!” One corner of his mouth turned up. “Although I will confess to almost stealing it. It was very tempting at the time.” He lay on his back, propped his arms behind his head and related the whole story to her. “I have since wondered if I have a fairy godmother,” he concluded.

“A fairy godmother named Mrs. Hill, I suspect,” laughed Elizabeth. “She could move through the house without making a sound. I don’t know that I could even count the number of times she caught me in the midst of some childish prank.”

“At any rate, it is mine now, Elizabeth. I refuse to give it back to you. It has gotten me through many a lonely night.” Darcy said, rising on one elbow and wrapping his other arm around her waist from behind. He began softly planting slow kisses up her spine. A soft moan escaped her, and she sank back into his arms. 

“I won’t fight you over it, my dearest,” she said, nestling against him. “I certainly would not wish to provoke you. I still shudder at the memory of your anger at me at Netherfield.” She ran her fingers over his shoulder and rolled back onto his chest.

Darcy raised his head to look at her, completely mystified. “I have never been angry with you, Elizabeth.” A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Frustrated, bewitched, discomfited, but never angry.”

“But you must have been. At the ball, when I pestered you about... about Wickham. It was inexcusably rude.  I _know_ you were angry. Your face was so flushed… truly, William, you went scarlet to the roots of your hair…”

“Elizabeth,” he interrupted her. “My face was flushed because while I was chastising myself for having feelings for you, all the while I was…” he paused, and she felt his deep sigh as his chest rose and fell beneath her.

“You were what?”

His head flopped back onto his pillow and he closed his eyes. “I was… oh, God, Elizabeth, forgive me. I was… picturing you naked.”

Elizabeth’s head shot up and she stared at him in shock. “You were _what_?”

He tensed and opened his eyes, bracing himself for the revulsion and censure that was sure to be on her face. Instead, he watched, transfixed, as her expression transformed from wide-eyed amazement to mischievous delight.

“Really?” she breathed slowly, looking into his face, her lips turning up at the corners, her eyes dancing. “I shall have to do the same, just to get even with you, William.” She kissed his chest, her hands moving down his flanks. “I shall picture you naked when we are walking in the park.” Another kiss, on his shoulder. “Or when you are working in your study.” A lingering kiss on his throat, her fingertips brushing his lower belly. “Or at dinner.” She kissed his mouth, her tongue swirling lightly between his lips. He felt her body begin to quiver against his chest, laughter bubbling up in her throat. “Or on your horse.”

Darcy had always believed true passion to be serious business. Especially deflowering, though he had of course never taken a maiden before. He and Elizabeth had spent the night alternately dozing, talking, and making love, over and over. He had never imagined lovemaking could be accompanied by teasing, tickling, laughter; that it could be so much fun. He had never been so aroused in his life, yet he was having fun.

“Lizzy,” he groaned, rolling her, still laughing, onto her back. “Enough, woman! You are driving me mad.” His lips took hers, as passion overtook them once more.

***

They did not leave the house again for two days, when they were forced by etiquette and familial obligation to attend one more gathering at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. The Bennets and Bingleys were returning to Netherfield the following day, and Anne, Charlotte, and the Earl were leaving for Rosings. Two days after that, the Hursts planned to close their house and leave for Somerleigh. Mary was already ensconced with the Gardiners, and Georgiana was enjoying her aunt’s company enough to decide to remain at Matlock House until it was time to join them at Pemberley. The remainder of Elizabeth’s new wardrobe was delivered to Darcy House two days later, and removing the knocker from the door, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy at last left for Pemberley.

***

Caroline’s return from Abbotsford Park was accomplished more quickly than the journey thither. It had been decided among the friends that Sophronia and Alfred would stay at Abbotsford for the time being, and everyone else would go back to London. She had been quiet, sulking because the party was now over, but then brightened at the idea of returning to town. Perhaps there were still some society events to be attended.

The Draytons and Spurlocks were weary of her company and now that the need for social camouflage was over, they hurried her back to the Hursts’ home as quickly as possible. With promises to deliver her remaining belongings from Riverton House, she and Bertha were packed into Lord Drayton’s coach and dispatched as soon as their party reached town.

The coach came to a halt in front of the house on Grosvenor Square. Caroline pouted at the prospect of again taking up residence in the shabby house. The driver got down and handed out first Bertha, then Miss Bingley. They turned to face the darkened house, only to see that the knocker was off the front door. Not the grand reception she had envisioned.

“Bertha,” snapped Caroline, “Go to the tradesmen’s entrance.” Several minutes later, the front door opened and footmen appeared to unload her belongings. Caroline, with her trunks and bandboxes, swept into the house.

Once inside, she turned to speak to the housekeeper and then stopped, becoming aware of her surroundings. Her mouth still open, she turned slowly in a circle. The great hall was shining, elegant, sparkling. The marble floor shone, the deep colors in the fine antique Persian rug glowed, the chandelier glittered. Obviously there had been some changes.

Belatedly, she realized that the housekeeper was speaking to her.

“Miss, the master and mistress have gone to Somerleigh. They have no definite plans to return to town. I shall have your room made ready.”

Caroline, perplexed and unsettled, wandered through the silent house while Bertha unpacked her clothing. She came upon the beautiful drawing room and gasped. What had transpired while she had been luxuriating in the highest ranks of the ton?

Why would Gilbert and Louisa be staying at Somerleigh? Where was Charles? When would they be traveling to Pemberley? Caroline, who never had a moment of doubt in her life, suddenly shivered with foreboding. She vaguely remembered receiving letters. Perhaps there was some explanation. Within the hour, her trunks arrived from Riverton House.

At last, Bertha brought Caroline the salver she had left on the dressing table at Riverton House. On it was a bundle of small envelopes inscribed in Louisa’s elegant handwriting. Caroline snatched them up, ripping them apart one by one.

An invitation for Christmas. Invitations for dinner. For shopping. An invitation to see the remodeled drawing room. A note from Louisa after seeing her at the ball.

Caroline’s head snapped up. The emeralds! _Where_ had Louisa gotten those emeralds? Had she taken them with her?

She began to snatch the envelopes up, faster and faster, almost shredding them in her haste.

Another dinner invitation. A note informing her that they were leaving for Netherfield. _Netherfield!_ _Nooo!_ Caroline snarled and kept reading.

Another note. Charles had married Jane Bennet. Caroline screamed with vexation. Now she would be forced to keep company with that horrible family. Another note.  Louisa is with child? _Disgusting_. A letter announcing their intentions of spending the summer at Somerleigh.

One envelope left.

She hesitated, tentatively took the letter between her forefinger and thumb, and opened it slowly.

Darcy was married. To Eliza Bennet.

She set the letter down slowly, took a deep breath, and howled in fury.

A cook’s assistant down in the kitchens froze, up to her elbows in dough, and shivered at the sound of the long, unearthly wail. A footman dropped a glass pitcher, and it shattered on the stone floor of the butler’s pantry. A hackney driver shuddered as he drove past the house, and spread the word to his colleagues that the place was haunted.

 

 


	16. An overly long epilogue in which everyone gets a happy-ever-after (of sorts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been told that a long epilogue is evidence of a disorganized mind. I won't argue, but I generally enjoy epilogues. And I wanted everyone to be happy in the end, so more epilogue...
> 
> I had to work on Mary's HEA a bit. In the initial, longer version of this story, where Sophronia's story is much, much, more filled out, Mary ends up marrying the old baron's heir. Maybe I'll post that one some day

It was with unsurpassed joy that Mr. Darcy brought his bride home to Pemberley. Mrs. Reynolds and the staff welcomed their new mistress warmly, deeply grateful that their master was his old self again. Better than his old self, he smiled and laughed, his eyes alight, more relaxed and happy than he had been in many years. The newlyweds spent sunlit hours walking the footpaths, gardens, and woods surrounding the estate, discovering myriad hidden places where lovers could dally. Elizabeth spent time every day with Mrs. Reynolds, gradually moving into her role as mistress of the vast estate. When Georgiana arrived home four weeks later, she was welcomed with open arms.

***

Georgiana had spent much of that time showing her new friend Miss Mary Bennet the delights of London. The girls, chaperoned by their aunts, attended concerts, plays, and lectures; and were frequent patrons of the lending library. Mary bloomed under the tutelage of her new masters, and gained in poise and confidence. Being listened to, _really_ listened to, was still a novelty to her and she relished it. When Georgiana left for the country, the two friends, now sisters, began a correspondence that continued all their lives.

Though Mary enjoyed living with the Gardiners in their lively household, she missed Georgiana, as well as her sisters. Hard to imagine that one could occasionally be lonely in the midst of such bustle. Mary had never expected to marry, but had once had a flutter of hope when her cousin Mr. Collins had stayed with the family at Longbourn. If he had offered to her instead of Lizzy, she would have accepted him. She shuddered. What a mistake _that_ would have been! Now the family assumed that she would eventually move back to Meryton to care for their mother.

She was in her second year in London when Lady Matlock invited Mary and her aunt to attend a meeting for one of her charities. The meeting was led by young Mr. Robert Smallbroke, a kindly-faced clergyman of medium height and rumpled hair who lectured at Oxford during the term and did charity work in London during the summers. Mary was immediately drawn to his practicality, sense of mission, and quiet sense of humor. After many hours spent working together to feed and clothe street children, he hesitantly asked her to attend a concert with him. With her uncle’s permission, a courtship soon began, and they married during the Christmas holidays and settled into the large house in Oxford given to them by his parents. Lady Matlock had attended the wedding, looking particularly smug.

***

After giving serious thought to the tempting notion of residing at Pemberley, Mrs. Bennet instead chose to remain in Meryton, among family and friends, close to the churchyard where her husband was at rest. Several weeks after their wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy traveled to stay with the Bingleys while they searched for just the right house for her. It was Mr. Phillips who discovered that a lovely and venerable stone cottage on several acres of woodland was about to go on the market. It was a short walk from her sister, and had a large and beautiful garden, with enough room for her remaining single daughters to stay when they were on holiday from school or visiting from London. Mrs. Hill and Mrs. Jenks approved the kitchen and the attics, and the deal was sealed. Just as the leaves began to turn color and the afternoon light began to mellow, Mrs. Bennet, along with new furnishings and linens, Mary’s pianoforte, and even a few of her late husband’s books, was cozily settled into her hew home.

***

The Bingleys and the Hursts, corresponding between Somerleigh and Netherfield, came to the joint conclusion that something had to be done about Caroline. She turned up her nose at invitations to visit the country: Somerleigh was, in her opinion, unfit for habitation and she had vowed never to set foot at Netherfield again. As Louisa was feeling well and able to travel, the two couples met in London to consider the problem. Caroline chided Louisa about spoiling her figure, and treated Jane with frigid civility, even though she was the only other woman besides Louisa willing to try to get along with her.

It quickly became apparent that the only solution was to set Caroline up in her own establishment. Mr. Henderson was given the task of finding a suitable abode, and after several attempts, was finally able to find one that she approved. After extravagant decorating, she removed from Grosvenor Square to her own home, where she plotted and planned the next year’s season. Perhaps, she thought, she could still get Lord Broughton. Or Norling would do as well.

***

Utterly exhausted after that ordeal, the Bingleys postponed shopping for a townhouse of their own. Gilbert and Louisa, having decided to remain at Somerleigh until some indefinite time after the birth of their child, begged them to consider the house on Grosvenor Square as their own for the foreseeable future. The Bingleys were delighted with the prospect, and promised to carry out Louisa’s instructions as to her continuing renovations.

***

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had long planned a journey to the Lakes during the summer, but the many changes wrought over the winter and spring necessitated a change in plans. They made a pleasant journey to Derbyshire to visit Pemberley, with a stop at Somerleigh on their return journey. Kitty traveled with them as far as Somerleigh, where she stayed until with the Hursts until it was time to remove once more to Meryton. Kitty assisted Louisa in preparing the nursery and layette, while listening to her stories of her school days, and keeping her company while Gilbert caught up with Arthur’s improvements on the farm. In the lovely Kitty’s presence, Arthur, who had taken to dressing like a farmhand, took a renewed interest in smartening up his appearance, shaving regularly, and even dressing for dinner.

***

Lydia also traveled, spending part of the summer at Rosings at Anne’s invitation. Lady Catherine, already in a towering fury over Darcy’s marriage, bridled at having his young sister-in-law at Rosings, but was rocked back on her heels by Anne’s tart suggestion that if she didn’t like it, she could consider removing to the dower house. Anne taught Lydia to drive her phaeton, and spent long restful afternoons while her younger friend read novels aloud, enthusiastically playacting all the voices. Mrs. Jenkinson, sensing change in the air, shifted her loyalties.

***

As the summer wound down, Netherfield emptied out and was placed on the market once more. Mr. and Mrs. Collins settled into Longbourn, where Mr. Collins proved to be even less of a manager than Mr. Bennet had been.

***

Hurst formed the opinion that while his younger brother had been doing excellent work on the estate, he needed a bit of town bronze, and sent him to London to live with the Bingleys in the house on Grosvenor Square. With guidance from Charles, Mr. Gardiner, and Mr. Henderson, Arthur gained in social graces and business acumen.

***

In August, Kitty and Lydia removed to Bath, and school. What they lacked in preparation, they made up for in enthusiasm. Kitty followed the example of her admired friend and mentor, Louisa Hurst, exerting herself at her studies and practicing, even scheduling extra lessons with their masters. Where Kitty struggled to master French, Lydia discovered a natural talent for languages, and a completely unexpected affinity for mathematics. Lydia also worked diligently, though her powers of concentration never matched Kitty’s, nor was she able to completely contain her irrepressible behavior and unruly tongue.

Madame de Castellane’s practiced eye recognized untrained intelligence in both sisters. She foresaw no problems with the ladylike and diligent Kitty, but recognized in Lydia a true challenge to her abilities. Clashes inevitably occurred. Espousing the opinion that young ladies should be trained in household skills as well as the more decorative female accomplishments, she took Lydia’s occasional resistance as an opportunity for further instruction. When Lydia proved truculent, she wasn’t sent home, she was sent to the kitchens, and required to toil under the supervision of the cook and housekeeper, in addition to keeping up with her lessons. The first time she spent an entire week baking bread and pies. The next time it was removing stains from laundry, and the next, mending and ironing, followed by keeping household accounts. By the time the Christmas holidays were upon them, Lydia was better at regulating her behavior and a dab hand at running a kitchen. By the end of her first year, she still occasionally talked back to her teachers, but in perfectly accented French, with accompanying Gallic gestures.

***

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, his leave at an end, threw himself back into his military duties. He was called to Vienna for the peace negotiations and did not see his family for many months. He did receive frequent letters and packages from his parents, his female cousins, and Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, keeping him up on family news. In turn, he sent his mother and female cousins gifts of Brussels lace and Swiss chocolate. He sent Anne special gifts and she sent him accounts of managing her estate and of visits from the Darcys and the Bennets. Anne seemed to be enjoying life and he was happy for that. He knew from Georgie’s letters that she was getting progressively weaker. He sent his congratulations via the Darcys to the Hursts upon the birth of their infant daughter in the autumn, and to the Bingleys when their son came into the world a few months later. But it wasn’t until the Darcys sent him the news of their own impending blessed event that thoughts of settling down began to enter his own mind.

His personal fortune had increased by investing with Mr. Gardiner, and he had expanded to other ventures, but marrying for money still seemed necessary. Other officers of his acquaintance had wives and families who traveled with them, but following the drum was a difficult existence. The ladies he was meeting at various balls and parties did not seem up to that sort of life, or interested enough in him to even try. His thoughts on the subject were interrupted by a greater concern, when Bonaparte escaped from Elba.

Serving as a battlefield courier, Richard was severely wounded in the great reckoning that was the battle of Waterloo. The Earl himself rushed to Brussels to bring his injured son home.

Richard spent the remainder of the summer of 1815 recovering at his parents’ estate in Derbyshire. When he was at last well enough to receive visitors, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were among the earliest and most frequent. Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, having purchased a small estate not thirty miles away, also called. Late that summer he was sitting by a window in his chambers and saw the Darcy carriage pull up, and three elegant ladies disembark. Form the window he recognized Elizabeth and Miss Catherine, and with a jolt of surprise realized that the third refined female was Miss Lydia.

Minutes later Lady Matlock appeared, leading the young ladies into his sitting room. They greeted him warmly, fussed over him, and caught him up on the Bennet family news. Richard relaxed in his chair and let the conversation flow around him, remembering the first time he had met the lively sisters at Netherfield estate. By the time Lydia was relating her adventures in the school kitchens to him, and the pies that even stray dogs would not eat, he was laughing, feeling more cheerful than he had in months, a fact not lost on his mother.

The girls were frequent visitors for three weeks until they left once again for Hertfordshire to prepare for their return to school. They played games, read aloud, and had long rambling discussions. Lydia in particular broke through his shell, asking guilelessly about his life in the army, and his hopes and dreams for the future. After spending the previous months immersed in the artifice of diplomats and tonnish females, her candid and forthright conversation was balm to his soul. Later, he sat pensively, thinking of her. She was seventeen, thirteen years his junior. He was too old for her, but her visits had lightened his heart, and made him feel young. When they parted, he sat at the window and watched their carriage disappear into the distance. 

Late the following autumn the Colonel was able to return to duty. Through his family correspondence he heard stray bits of news of the Bennet girls. Lydia often surprised him by popping unexpectedly into his mind. They met again at Elizabeth’s big family Christmas celebration at Pemberley. It became clear to Richard that if both Bingley and Darcy could be happy with penniless girls, so could he. Within weeks, Lydia Bennet married right out of the school room and into an army encampment. After the first month, any concerns Richard might have had about his young bride adjusting were put to rest. She was strong, energetic, and up to any obstacle thrown in her path. She could pitch a tent and bake in an outdoor oven one day, and speak elegantly with French diplomats the next. His men instantly adored her. Most of all, she enveloped him with her love, and the Earl’s second son discovered that he didn’t require a fortune to live happily after all.

***

Georgiana, with her brother and sister-law’s blessing, decided to put off her debut until Lydia and Kitty had finished school. After Lydia’s marriage and departure for the continent, the two remaining young ladies, with the guidance of the Darcys and Lady Matlock, navigated the perilous shoals of the London season together.

Kitty was dazzled: the balls, the gowns, the extravagant townhouses, the dashing and handsome young men, the poised and sophisticated ladies. Wincing, she recollected her behavior when she had been “out” in Meryton. Still, after a few weeks, the season began to pall. Finally, one evening at a ball she had not really wished to attend, when the faces of the young men had begun to blur together, she heard a familiar voice.

“Miss Bennet,” said a deep voice at her shoulder. She turned and her eyes moved up to a thin handsome face. He was as tall as his older brother.

“Arthur! Oh, pray, excuse me! Mr. Hurst!” Kitty exclaimed.

Arthur laughed. “We are old friends. You must call me Arthur,” he said, smiling down at her.

“Only if you call me Kitty,” she smiled. “It’s nice to see a familiar face. How are you? You live in London all the time now, don’t you?”

“I do. But I’ve just returned from several weeks at Somerleigh. My new nephew was christened last Sunday.”

“Yes, Louisa sent us an announcement. How does Margaret like her little brother?”

“So far she likes him, but I don’t think he is interesting to her. He sleeps and spits up all day. But that’s not what I came all the way back from Northamptonshire to talk about. Kitty, may I have this dance?”

Kitty grinned her consent and they made their way to the dance floor. Over the remaining weeks of the season, they met at parties, attended plays and concerts, and drove in the park. Summer had already begun when Arthur Hurst appeared at the house on Gracechurch Street to ask Mr. Gardiner’s permission to marry his niece. Two months later, Kitty and Arthur were married and had taken up residence at the house on Grosvenor Square, the Bingleys having removed to their estate in Derbyshire.

***

Georgiana had watched the regard between Kitty and Arthur grow with delight, but also with a little pang. Her cousin Anne had been right; there were kind, decent, gentlemen among the ton. They just all seemed to be courting other young ladies.

Georgiana was wishing the season over so they could all return to Pemberley. With only a few more weeks to go, she was sitting with Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam at a huge soiree hosted by Lord and Lady Drayton, when they spotted Caroline Bingley, whom they hadn’t seen in many months. Miss Bingley caught their eyes squarely, then turned her nose in the air and walked away. The three turned to look at each other in surprise, and burst into laughter. A gentleman standing near them took notice and stepped over to greet Darcy. The ladies turned to see an engaging young man with intelligent eyes and a genuine smile.

“Darcy!” laughed Lord Jonathan Mortimer. “I see you have been just given the cut direct, though obviously not mortifying to you. What on earth did you do to deserve Miss Bingley’s wrath?”

“I married a lady she does not approve of.” He grinned at Elizabeth. “Miss Bingley was away from town two years ago and was unable to prevent it.”

“She will never forgive us. Especially me,” chimed in Elizabeth.

Darcy quickly introduced Lord Mortimer to his wife and sister. The young lord gave them all an apologetic look. “I am glad you can laugh at it. I am afraid that I suggested that Lady Drayton invite Miss Bingley to her soiree. You see, I was party to a ruse that caused Miss Bingley’s long absence from her usual circles two years ago, and I need to assuage my guilt. In a way, she was used most shamelessly.”

Elizabeth and Georgiana’s eyes were alight with curiosity. Darcy gestured to a nearby chair. “Do sit down, Mortimer, and tell us all.”

So Jonathan told the entire story, from Sophronia’s observation of Caroline’s behavior at the theater, to Caroline’s triumph at the Markham’s ball, to their retreat to Abbotsford Park, to the Drayton’s return to London. He had his small audience in stitches. Still, he flushed a little during the telling, and ended the long story with a sheepish look in Georgiana’s direction.

“Miss Darcy, I know this is your first season. I hope your first impression of me isn’t irrevocably negative. The Draytons and the Spurlocks and I have attempted to include Miss Bingley in some of our invitations ever since, though a little of her company goes a long way.”

Georgiana disagreed. “You are too hard on yourself, my lord. Miss Bingley made her own choices. I would go so far as to guess that she thought _she_ was using Lady Sophronia. I know her well, sir, and I have also had a surfeit of her company.”

Elizabeth spoke up. “My lord, Mr. Darcy and I can never thank you enough for helping keep Miss Bingley entertained that season. Not to mention, the story of Miss Bingley and my husband at the theater is the best I’ve heard in years.” She turned to her husband. “William, why have you never entertained us with that story?”

Darcy squirmed, red-faced. “For the simple reason that I did not wish to relive it, Elizabeth. Although Mortimer tells it with considerable skill.” He laughed. “At the time, I was so embarrassed it was physically painful, but now it is merely ridiculous.”

Jonathan turned to Georgiana. “Thank you, I feel much better. But I don’t feel completely absolved. Perhaps, Miss Darcy, you would consider dancing with me so I am assured of your forgiveness?”

Georgiana smirked. “As if I, to whom you have just been introduced, had the power to absolve you! But thank you, I would very much enjoy a dance.”

Darcy and Elizabeth watched them walk together to the dance floor, chatting as if they were old friends. “Do you approve of him, husband?” she asked.

Darcy eyed his wife. “You ladies! You turn one dance into a marriage proposal! But yes, I believe I do. I knew his older brother, the current Marquess, at school. They are a caring, decent family. Let us see how this plays out, if it does.”

Over the next several days, Georgiana discovered that she wasn’t bored with the season after all. By late summer, Georgiana had accepted Jonathan’s proposal, and in November she became Lady Mortimer.

***

Mr. Collins, blithely unaware of his deficiencies as a manager, pompously delighted in his role of estate owner. Like the previous occupant, he spent much of his time in his library, oblivious to the practical aspects of a landowner’s life. His wife, by nature a careful manager, tried in vain to guide him. Longbourn estate, already in decline, began to deteriorate. After less than two years as master of Longbourn, Mr. Collins was carried off suddenly in an accident caused by his horse stepping into one of the myriad rabbit holes that infested the fields. The entail having run its course, Charlotte Collins decided to put the venerable estate up for sale, and moved to a pleasant little house in Meryton.

Charlotte wrote to Elizabeth of her decision. That letter was the catalyst for a flurry of correspondence between the Darcys, Bingleys, Hursts, Phillips’ and Gardiners. With investment from all branches of their families, Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Hurst were settled at the old family home just in time for spring planting. Arthur was delighted to be once more managing an estate, and over the next few years the young couple pulled Longbourn back from the brink, restoring it to its historic glory.

***

After the Darcys’ wedding, Anne de Bourgh’s cousins kept their promises. Rosings was a livelier place over the next few years, with frequent visits from the Darcys, the Fitzwilliams, and others. A voluminous correspondence kept her busy between visits. When Anne invited the Gardiners for a visit, Lady Catherine objected vociferously to vulgar tradesmen polluting the shades of Rosings. Her protests resulted in her sudden removal to the dower house where, like many bullies, she faded in the face of resistance, and finally was no more.

***

When Colonel Fitzwilliam’s assignment took him to the Mediterranean, Anne invited Lydia and their infant daughter, also named Anne, to stay with her at Rosings. Anne was spending more time confined to her rooms, and hadn’t gone driving in months. Lydia and Mrs. Jenkinson cared for her assiduously but the brave little woman was fading. Lydia wrote to all her family, advising them that if they wished to see their dear little Anne, sooner was better than later.

Over the next few weeks, the formerly lonesome Miss de Bourgh was surrounded by loved ones big and small, old and young. She slept, talked, held babies, teased and laughed. Richard surprised everyone by arriving at Rosings late one evening, having requested a special leave. He whisked Anne out of her bed and carried her downstairs so she could sit with all her family and friends. Finally, one evening as she lay propped up in bed listening to her cousins retell old stories, she quietly slipped away.

After a funeral service attended by her sorrowing relations and friends, loyal staff and tenants, and many of the residents of Hunsford, most of Anne’s visitors left for their homes. Several days later when her will was read, she left many gifts and bequests, with a little something for everyone. Her biggest gift was to her only cousin with no home to call his own. Anne left Rosings to Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, who was the only one who was surprised. The Colonel promptly sold his commission, settled his little family in the enormous house, and with Lydia proceeded to fill it with naughty children.

***

Caroline Bingley, after three more unsuccessful seasons, changed tactics and sought a different kind of suitor. Taking a page from the book of Lady Augusta Havering, she carefully chose an extremely wealthy, extremely elderly man, flirted madly with him and dragged him to the altar. When he died barely a year later, leaving her his fortune, she bought herself a much larger townhouse, collected catty and eccentric friends, and became a controversial and outrageous fixture of the ton for many years.

***

Gilbert Hurst made the decision to choose love and show kindness. By doing so he found joy and inspired others to do the same. Fitzwilliam Darcy had also made that decision, and the ripples of happiness and friendship spread throughout their acquaintance. Their network of family and friends lay scattered about the country like bright jewels connected by a chain of letters and visits; connections of true affection that endured over many years and into the next generations.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, thank you all!! I appreciate your kudos, thoughts, constructive criticism, and comments.


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